#{TransparentTuesday} Love is HARD.

[johnclapperne]

{#TransparentTuesday} Love is HARD.

I am in the unique position of being recently single, and also spending time with my ex-boyfriend.

This might sound strange, but I love him ridiculously (and have done so for 23 years), and it is my hope that we stay friends forever.

Despite the fact that he did the breaking-up, I’ve been startled by how big, free, loving, and expansive I feel now that we’re not together.

Note: A huge part of this expansion is certainly due to the fact that I spent the last year battling PMDD and have won the battle, for now (thanks, birth control!). The world of mental health issues is very small and dark indeed.

But another part of it has to do with relationships in general, at least in my experience. Specifically, the way we hold completely different expectations for our partners than we do for everyone else— and how those expectations are like soul-poison.

As Tom and I have navigate our way through this breakup, I’ve been completely knocked on my ass to realize how much more love I have for him now than I did when we were together. When he was my boyfriend, I had a lot of… complaints.

I had a lot of needs, and expectations, and demands that weren’t being met, which made me feel hurt and unloved. But the only reason I had these needs expectations, and demands was because his life and future were intertwined with mine, and because every little thing he did affected me, and my life, and most importantly, my future.

Partnering with someone is an incredibly strange thing to do, IMO.

You decide you like someone enough to do life together, and all of a sudden this person’s interests, habits, career, growth, and future plans all affect your life for better or worse. When you were just two people hanging out, their addiction issues, or estranged relationship with their family, or habit of sleepwalking to the fridge and eating everything inside it, these things are just quirks; details that don’t affect you.

But once you make the decision to link your futures together, those things start to matter because they affect you and your life and your future. Things that at first are no problem at all when you were just two people suddenly become problems once you’re partners.

This is why I adore being single, actually. Every single date, the person gets to be literally perfect, because I need and expect absolutely nothing from them. They couldn’t let me down if they tried, so all I feel toward them is appreciation and delight.

I feel the same way about my friends, clients, and strangers of all kinds. Everyone is perfect, and I am able to appreciate and adore them without needing anything in return.

Since I have no expectations and they don’t affect my future in any way, I can love everyone broadly, fully, expansively, and enormously, flaws and all!

This is how it is for me. I felt that way about Tom when we first started dating almost 2 years ago– everything he did was perfect and interesting and wonderful! But once we were partners trying to build a life together, I found myself with a long list of problems.

Inside of a partnership, I have expectations and needs and I am constantly affected by their decisions. Inside of a partnership I take things personally and feel let down and stress about how this will work in the future. That means that inside of a partnership I am much harsher, more critical, less generous, and less loving.

This sucks, because it means the person I love the most gets the least love from me.

Now that Tom and I are no longer together, and I am freed from any expectation of building a future with him, I don’t care how he spends his time, and I don’t feel any need to understand his life choices, and I don’t find a single thing about him “unacceptable.”

As such, I find myself able to see him more clearly, and love him significantly more deeply and fully, than I did when we were together.

He is imperfect, and I find myself able to adore these imperfections again, the way I did before we dated. He is flawed, and extraordinary. Now that his life and personality don’t affect me, I can see with shocking clarity how perfect he is again.

This has happened before, with other partners. After nearly every breakup I’ve ever gone through, actually, I’ve experienced something similar: a restoration of unconditional love and acceptance once they were no longer my partner.

The implications of this realization have given me a LOT to think about.

I certainly hope for a romantic relationship someday that allows me to be as unconditionally loving and accepting (and fun, and expansive!) as I am when single… but I can’t imagine it.

The moment I decide to partner with someone, their life choices and flaws DO affect me, right? So how can I extend them the same kind of generosity and love that I find myself able to extend to everyone else, despite that?

Is there something I need in order to stay centered in my own life, or will the “right person” be someone whose life and future aligns nicely with mine? Maybe a setup where we never lived together would be ideal, or something like polyamory or commune living would help.

Maybe it’s impossible.

After all, there are SO few relationships that I am inspired by, or want to emulate. Most relationships seem to just be an inevitable chipping away at love, a slow subtle loss of intimacy and admiration, and a settling into baggage and resentment.

Perhaps this is the way it always goes.

Having discussed this stuff all week I’m struck by how many people consider it to be just part of the territory when it comes to relationships– it’s not ideal, but what are you gonna do? It was even suggested to me more than once that it’s natural, because we feel safe enough with the people we love most to “let them see our worst selves.”

But I’m not comfortable with that.

I want the person I partner with to feel wholly loved and accepted, supported and respected and admired, and I want the same in return.

I’m fine with someone seeing me fall apart and be triggered and all that, I’m not ok with my partner actually bringing out the worst, smallest parts of myself.

Ah, relationships. They’re such a fascinating thing to unpack and examine!

For the record, I am still interested in partnership, and I have every intention of seeking one when I’m ready again. But while I wait, I examine, and I ponder, and I discuss.

And as always, I’m curious what you think! Hit reply to share your thoughts or perspective! Just know I’m looking for connection and discussion, not advice.

Yours in BIG EXPANSIVE LOVE,

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Love is HARD. appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

https://ift.tt/2MlFYxu

[neilmillerne]

{#TransparentTuesday} Love is HARD.

I am in the unique position of being recently single, and also spending time with my ex-boyfriend.

This might sound strange, but I love him ridiculously (and have done so for 23 years), and it is my hope that we stay friends forever.

Despite the fact that he did the breaking-up, I’ve been startled by how big, free, loving, and expansive I feel now that we’re not together.

Note: A huge part of this expansion is certainly due to the fact that I spent the last year battling PMDD and have won the battle, for now (thanks, birth control!). The world of mental health issues is very small and dark indeed.

But another part of it has to do with relationships in general, at least in my experience. Specifically, the way we hold completely different expectations for our partners than we do for everyone else— and how those expectations are like soul-poison.

As Tom and I have navigate our way through this breakup, I’ve been completely knocked on my ass to realize how much more love I have for him now than I did when we were together. When he was my boyfriend, I had a lot of… complaints.

I had a lot of needs, and expectations, and demands that weren’t being met, which made me feel hurt and unloved. But the only reason I had these needs expectations, and demands was because his life and future were intertwined with mine, and because every little thing he did affected me, and my life, and most importantly, my future.

Partnering with someone is an incredibly strange thing to do, IMO.

You decide you like someone enough to do life together, and all of a sudden this person’s interests, habits, career, growth, and future plans all affect your life for better or worse. When you were just two people hanging out, their addiction issues, or estranged relationship with their family, or habit of sleepwalking to the fridge and eating everything inside it, these things are just quirks; details that don’t affect you.

But once you make the decision to link your futures together, those things start to matter because they affect you and your life and your future. Things that at first are no problem at all when you were just two people suddenly become problems once you’re partners.

This is why I adore being single, actually. Every single date, the person gets to be literally perfect, because I need and expect absolutely nothing from them. They couldn’t let me down if they tried, so all I feel toward them is appreciation and delight.

I feel the same way about my friends, clients, and strangers of all kinds. Everyone is perfect, and I am able to appreciate and adore them without needing anything in return.

Since I have no expectations and they don’t affect my future in any way, I can love everyone broadly, fully, expansively, and enormously, flaws and all!

This is how it is for me. I felt that way about Tom when we first started dating almost 2 years ago– everything he did was perfect and interesting and wonderful! But once we were partners trying to build a life together, I found myself with a long list of problems.

Inside of a partnership, I have expectations and needs and I am constantly affected by their decisions. Inside of a partnership I take things personally and feel let down and stress about how this will work in the future. That means that inside of a partnership I am much harsher, more critical, less generous, and less loving.

This sucks, because it means the person I love the most gets the least love from me.

Now that Tom and I are no longer together, and I am freed from any expectation of building a future with him, I don’t care how he spends his time, and I don’t feel any need to understand his life choices, and I don’t find a single thing about him “unacceptable.”

As such, I find myself able to see him more clearly, and love him significantly more deeply and fully, than I did when we were together.

He is imperfect, and I find myself able to adore these imperfections again, the way I did before we dated. He is flawed, and extraordinary. Now that his life and personality don’t affect me, I can see with shocking clarity how perfect he is again.

This has happened before, with other partners. After nearly every breakup I’ve ever gone through, actually, I’ve experienced something similar: a restoration of unconditional love and acceptance once they were no longer my partner.

The implications of this realization have given me a LOT to think about.

I certainly hope for a romantic relationship someday that allows me to be as unconditionally loving and accepting (and fun, and expansive!) as I am when single… but I can’t imagine it.

The moment I decide to partner with someone, their life choices and flaws DO affect me, right? So how can I extend them the same kind of generosity and love that I find myself able to extend to everyone else, despite that?

Is there something I need in order to stay centered in my own life, or will the “right person” be someone whose life and future aligns nicely with mine? Maybe a setup where we never lived together would be ideal, or something like polyamory or commune living would help.

Maybe it’s impossible.

After all, there are SO few relationships that I am inspired by, or want to emulate. Most relationships seem to just be an inevitable chipping away at love, a slow subtle loss of intimacy and admiration, and a settling into baggage and resentment.

Perhaps this is the way it always goes.

Having discussed this stuff all week I’m struck by how many people consider it to be just part of the territory when it comes to relationships– it’s not ideal, but what are you gonna do? It was even suggested to me more than once that it’s natural, because we feel safe enough with the people we love most to “let them see our worst selves.”

But I’m not comfortable with that.

I want the person I partner with to feel wholly loved and accepted, supported and respected and admired, and I want the same in return.

I’m fine with someone seeing me fall apart and be triggered and all that, I’m not ok with my partner actually bringing out the worst, smallest parts of myself.

Ah, relationships. They’re such a fascinating thing to unpack and examine!

For the record, I am still interested in partnership, and I have every intention of seeking one when I’m ready again. But while I wait, I examine, and I ponder, and I discuss.

And as always, I’m curious what you think! Hit reply to share your thoughts or perspective! Just know I’m looking for connection and discussion, not advice.

Yours in BIG EXPANSIVE LOVE,

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Love is HARD. appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

https://ift.tt/2MlFYxu

[almajonesnjna]

{#TransparentTuesday} Love is HARD.

I am in the unique position of being recently single, and also spending time with my ex-boyfriend.

This might sound strange, but I love him ridiculously (and have done so for 23 years), and it is my hope that we stay friends forever.

Despite the fact that he did the breaking-up, I’ve been startled by how big, free, loving, and expansive I feel now that we’re not together.

Note: A huge part of this expansion is certainly due to the fact that I spent the last year battling PMDD and have won the battle, for now (thanks, birth control!). The world of mental health issues is very small and dark indeed.

But another part of it has to do with relationships in general, at least in my experience. Specifically, the way we hold completely different expectations for our partners than we do for everyone else— and how those expectations are like soul-poison.

As Tom and I have navigate our way through this breakup, I’ve been completely knocked on my ass to realize how much more love I have for him now than I did when we were together. When he was my boyfriend, I had a lot of… complaints.

I had a lot of needs, and expectations, and demands that weren’t being met, which made me feel hurt and unloved. But the only reason I had these needs expectations, and demands was because his life and future were intertwined with mine, and because every little thing he did affected me, and my life, and most importantly, my future.

Partnering with someone is an incredibly strange thing to do, IMO.

You decide you like someone enough to do life together, and all of a sudden this person’s interests, habits, career, growth, and future plans all affect your life for better or worse. When you were just two people hanging out, their addiction issues, or estranged relationship with their family, or habit of sleepwalking to the fridge and eating everything inside it, these things are just quirks; details that don’t affect you.

But once you make the decision to link your futures together, those things start to matter because they affect you and your life and your future. Things that at first are no problem at all when you were just two people suddenly become problems once you’re partners.

This is why I adore being single, actually. Every single date, the person gets to be literally perfect, because I need and expect absolutely nothing from them. They couldn’t let me down if they tried, so all I feel toward them is appreciation and delight.

I feel the same way about my friends, clients, and strangers of all kinds. Everyone is perfect, and I am able to appreciate and adore them without needing anything in return.

Since I have no expectations and they don’t affect my future in any way, I can love everyone broadly, fully, expansively, and enormously, flaws and all!

This is how it is for me. I felt that way about Tom when we first started dating almost 2 years ago– everything he did was perfect and interesting and wonderful! But once we were partners trying to build a life together, I found myself with a long list of problems.

Inside of a partnership, I have expectations and needs and I am constantly affected by their decisions. Inside of a partnership I take things personally and feel let down and stress about how this will work in the future. That means that inside of a partnership I am much harsher, more critical, less generous, and less loving.

This sucks, because it means the person I love the most gets the least love from me.

Now that Tom and I are no longer together, and I am freed from any expectation of building a future with him, I don’t care how he spends his time, and I don’t feel any need to understand his life choices, and I don’t find a single thing about him “unacceptable.”

As such, I find myself able to see him more clearly, and love him significantly more deeply and fully, than I did when we were together.

He is imperfect, and I find myself able to adore these imperfections again, the way I did before we dated. He is flawed, and extraordinary. Now that his life and personality don’t affect me, I can see with shocking clarity how perfect he is again.

This has happened before, with other partners. After nearly every breakup I’ve ever gone through, actually, I’ve experienced something similar: a restoration of unconditional love and acceptance once they were no longer my partner.

The implications of this realization have given me a LOT to think about.

I certainly hope for a romantic relationship someday that allows me to be as unconditionally loving and accepting (and fun, and expansive!) as I am when single… but I can’t imagine it.

The moment I decide to partner with someone, their life choices and flaws DO affect me, right? So how can I extend them the same kind of generosity and love that I find myself able to extend to everyone else, despite that?

Is there something I need in order to stay centered in my own life, or will the “right person” be someone whose life and future aligns nicely with mine? Maybe a setup where we never lived together would be ideal, or something like polyamory or commune living would help.

Maybe it’s impossible.

After all, there are SO few relationships that I am inspired by, or want to emulate. Most relationships seem to just be an inevitable chipping away at love, a slow subtle loss of intimacy and admiration, and a settling into baggage and resentment.

Perhaps this is the way it always goes.

Having discussed this stuff all week I’m struck by how many people consider it to be just part of the territory when it comes to relationships– it’s not ideal, but what are you gonna do? It was even suggested to me more than once that it’s natural, because we feel safe enough with the people we love most to “let them see our worst selves.”

But I’m not comfortable with that.

I want the person I partner with to feel wholly loved and accepted, supported and respected and admired, and I want the same in return.

I’m fine with someone seeing me fall apart and be triggered and all that, I’m not ok with my partner actually bringing out the worst, smallest parts of myself.

Ah, relationships. They’re such a fascinating thing to unpack and examine!

For the record, I am still interested in partnership, and I have every intention of seeking one when I’m ready again. But while I wait, I examine, and I ponder, and I discuss.

And as always, I’m curious what you think! Hit reply to share your thoughts or perspective! Just know I’m looking for connection and discussion, not advice.

Yours in BIG EXPANSIVE LOVE,

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Love is HARD. appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

https://ift.tt/2MlFYxu

[joshuabradleyn]

{#TransparentTuesday} Love is HARD.

I am in the unique position of being recently single, and also spending time with my ex-boyfriend.

This might sound strange, but I love him ridiculously (and have done so for 23 years), and it is my hope that we stay friends forever.

Despite the fact that he did the breaking-up, I’ve been startled by how big, free, loving, and expansive I feel now that we’re not together.

Note: A huge part of this expansion is certainly due to the fact that I spent the last year battling PMDD and have won the battle, for now (thanks, birth control!). The world of mental health issues is very small and dark indeed.

But another part of it has to do with relationships in general, at least in my experience. Specifically, the way we hold completely different expectations for our partners than we do for everyone else— and how those expectations are like soul-poison.

As Tom and I have navigate our way through this breakup, I’ve been completely knocked on my ass to realize how much more love I have for him now than I did when we were together. When he was my boyfriend, I had a lot of… complaints.

I had a lot of needs, and expectations, and demands that weren’t being met, which made me feel hurt and unloved. But the only reason I had these needs expectations, and demands was because his life and future were intertwined with mine, and because every little thing he did affected me, and my life, and most importantly, my future.

Partnering with someone is an incredibly strange thing to do, IMO.

You decide you like someone enough to do life together, and all of a sudden this person’s interests, habits, career, growth, and future plans all affect your life for better or worse. When you were just two people hanging out, their addiction issues, or estranged relationship with their family, or habit of sleepwalking to the fridge and eating everything inside it, these things are just quirks; details that don’t affect you.

But once you make the decision to link your futures together, those things start to matter because they affect you and your life and your future. Things that at first are no problem at all when you were just two people suddenly become problems once you’re partners.

This is why I adore being single, actually. Every single date, the person gets to be literally perfect, because I need and expect absolutely nothing from them. They couldn’t let me down if they tried, so all I feel toward them is appreciation and delight.

I feel the same way about my friends, clients, and strangers of all kinds. Everyone is perfect, and I am able to appreciate and adore them without needing anything in return.

Since I have no expectations and they don’t affect my future in any way, I can love everyone broadly, fully, expansively, and enormously, flaws and all!

This is how it is for me. I felt that way about Tom when we first started dating almost 2 years ago– everything he did was perfect and interesting and wonderful! But once we were partners trying to build a life together, I found myself with a long list of problems.

Inside of a partnership, I have expectations and needs and I am constantly affected by their decisions. Inside of a partnership I take things personally and feel let down and stress about how this will work in the future. That means that inside of a partnership I am much harsher, more critical, less generous, and less loving.

This sucks, because it means the person I love the most gets the least love from me.

Now that Tom and I are no longer together, and I am freed from any expectation of building a future with him, I don’t care how he spends his time, and I don’t feel any need to understand his life choices, and I don’t find a single thing about him “unacceptable.”

As such, I find myself able to see him more clearly, and love him significantly more deeply and fully, than I did when we were together.

He is imperfect, and I find myself able to adore these imperfections again, the way I did before we dated. He is flawed, and extraordinary. Now that his life and personality don’t affect me, I can see with shocking clarity how perfect he is again.

This has happened before, with other partners. After nearly every breakup I’ve ever gone through, actually, I’ve experienced something similar: a restoration of unconditional love and acceptance once they were no longer my partner.

The implications of this realization have given me a LOT to think about.

I certainly hope for a romantic relationship someday that allows me to be as unconditionally loving and accepting (and fun, and expansive!) as I am when single… but I can’t imagine it.

The moment I decide to partner with someone, their life choices and flaws DO affect me, right? So how can I extend them the same kind of generosity and love that I find myself able to extend to everyone else, despite that?

Is there something I need in order to stay centered in my own life, or will the “right person” be someone whose life and future aligns nicely with mine? Maybe a setup where we never lived together would be ideal, or something like polyamory or commune living would help.

Maybe it’s impossible.

After all, there are SO few relationships that I am inspired by, or want to emulate. Most relationships seem to just be an inevitable chipping away at love, a slow subtle loss of intimacy and admiration, and a settling into baggage and resentment.

Perhaps this is the way it always goes.

Having discussed this stuff all week I’m struck by how many people consider it to be just part of the territory when it comes to relationships– it’s not ideal, but what are you gonna do? It was even suggested to me more than once that it’s natural, because we feel safe enough with the people we love most to “let them see our worst selves.”

But I’m not comfortable with that.

I want the person I partner with to feel wholly loved and accepted, supported and respected and admired, and I want the same in return.

I’m fine with someone seeing me fall apart and be triggered and all that, I’m not ok with my partner actually bringing out the worst, smallest parts of myself.

Ah, relationships. They’re such a fascinating thing to unpack and examine!

For the record, I am still interested in partnership, and I have every intention of seeking one when I’m ready again. But while I wait, I examine, and I ponder, and I discuss.

And as always, I’m curious what you think! Hit reply to share your thoughts or perspective! Just know I’m looking for connection and discussion, not advice.

Yours in BIG EXPANSIVE LOVE,

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Love is HARD. appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

https://ift.tt/2MlFYxu

[amsrober02-blog]

Making memories, not chaos

I remembered that not only is today Christmas, but it’s also Tuesday! So, here is today’s #transparenttuesday brought to you by some of my deep thoughts after some quality time with family.

Next year, Anthony and I will have been together for 18 years (half my life). We have been married 13 and have spent 16 Christmases together. Anthony I spent some time reflecting on the years and how things have changed. Our homes have changed, we’ve moved to another state. We added kids to our lives and our kids have grown up. The years just fly by so fast. They really do. We discussed how much our marriage has changed. The process of going from single, to married is a difficult adjustment. You go from selfish, to butting heads, to giving in, to butting heads, to realizing that you can only love the other person how you’re supposed to if you work as a team and try to love like Christ loves us. This process is so hard. We still struggle you guys. Our marriage has had some low lows, but we haven’t given up. Somehow, by the grace of God, we are still here: together. Our life is NOT perfect. We’ve made a lot of mistakes that have left some scars and made some decisions that we are still paying for, but regardless, we are doing this life together.

It was so much fun to sit down once the chaos ended and just share memories with family. I enjoyed talking with Darlene Dean McCoy about special memories she shared with her mom and stories with Floyd and Cindy McCoy Paul about their childhood. Times like this are priceless. Hunter and Brooklyn sat wild-eyed as they waited to hear what would happen next. You can’t see this stuff on TV, you can’t read about it. These are special stories that will stick with them forever.

I can’t even begin to tell you how thankful I am that I have the relationship I do with my in-laws. I feel so blessed. This family that I have married into has become my own. They love me like I’m theirs as well. I don’t take this for granted. I know how lucky I am.

Now I sit at my mom’s house for our last Christmas. I remember a year not long ago where we sat and reflected on a time when we didn’t know if we would have her the next year. The year she had breast cancer was the scariest I have ever had, but God prevailed, and she is with us: cancer free. I’m thankful that I get to spend the weekend with my sister, brother in law, nieces and nephews. I’m thankful for the laughter we will share and memories we will make. I’m thankful that my kids have this time.

I remember a time not long ago that all of these things didn’t seem like blessings to me. They seemed like a chore, but my how things have changed. The older I get, the more I realize how important these moments are; the more I cherish these moments and these people.

So as you go about your holiday weekend, and you lug around your kids and think about how much the chaos drives you nuts, remember that these years are fleeting. These people are blessings, and these memories will last a lifetime. Your kids will tell these stories to their grandkids some day. These will be the good old days.

I love you all so much. Merry Christmas.

Spending Christmas with some of my favorites

[itslovewithyouthings]

{#TransparentTuesday} learning to stay and fight it out. ift.tt/2w9i1zQ Whoa ne… http://bit.ly/2W8eP5B

{#TransparentTuesday} learning to stay and fight it out. ift.tt/2w9i1zQ Whoa nelly last week was a WEEK. It began with the stirring up of some family drama which forced me into a series of stressful painful and (at times) emotionally devastating conversations. For days on end I went to sleep feeling hurt and angry and woke up disoriented before remembering oh yeah Im still hurt and angry. You guys know I believe in transparency but (if youve been reading my tuesday emails lately you know this) I also want to honor other peoples privacy. Plus the actual details of what happened dont matter in the slightest. What matters is this: being a family is hard. Conflict happens people get triggered and communication breaks down. Walls come flying up and emotional doors get slammed in each others faces and everyone feels like nobody is hearing them. This is just a part of life. But for me its a relatively new part of life. Ive never lived near my family before but I do now. Ive never shied away from conflict by any means but Ive always had the option to just leave. To go back to my real life and let everything cool off. Now that Im living here and see my family on a nearly-daily basis however I no longer have the option to disengage. And thats tough sometimes. Which brings me to an important realization. I am a strong-willed woman who knows what she needs to be happy and is very very good at getting it. I know how to put myself first advocate for my needs and get what I want. (Because of this Im great at teaching people how to assert themselves create strong boundaries and build a life that they can thrive in) This skill set like all skill sets comes with some build-in limitations however. Pretty often self-care for me has historically meant that I emotionally disengage. As in Im there fighting it out and then something happens to create this shift for me and I suddenly realize huh. I dont care enough about this person anymore to keep fighting. Im done. Im gone. Like a light switch. This has happened in relationships during the moment I realized we were done (note: this was not always the same moment as us breaking up) but it has also happened in friendships. I never felt like I was choosing to disengage from someone in these moments. Instead it felt like a door would close in my heart and my connection (with the person whose door it was) would simply be gone. From the outside this habit of disengagement has been described to me as bringing down the guillotine on someone. It has also been described as hurtful and selfish. It has even been described as hateful. I wouldnt know. It just felt like self-protection to me. Which brings me to the horrible painful infuriating humbling lesson Im learning right now: With family you dont EVER get to close the heart door. I mean you do if youre breaking up with a family member. (And yes I believe sometimes that is the right choice.) If you plan to stick around and participate in the family community however you do not. Which means I need to skill-up and fast. Ive never had to stay and fight it out. Ive never had to stay and fix something that I thought was broken. Ive never had to open a heart door after it was shut. And thats why Im here I think in this exact place and time. To learn how to re-open a heart door that has shut. To learn how to stay and forgive and accept even when my instincts tell me to cut and run. To learn how to be more loving and more expansive than I ever had to be before. My work this week will be to bring in some heavy machinery and drill a fucking handle on a door Ive thought was closed for over a decade. And in the future I plan to pay closer attention. To catch the heart-door closing right as it starts to swing and jam an industrial-strength door-stop in there while I gather the skills to work things out. Because love. Because family. Sending you all strength and open-heartedness today

Jessi The post {#TransparentTuesday} learning to stay and fight it out. appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

[

{#TransparentTuesday} learning to stay and fight it out. ift.tt/2w9i1zQ Whoa ne… http://bit.ly/2W8eP5B

[skylardaemonofficial-blog]

☀️ Today I dubb, #transparenttuesday ; From Right to Left . Here I am a 17 year old high school student about to walk toward the stage. I am desperate to exit stage left because I can see freedom. Freedom to explore, pursue, dominate, love, be loved, be respected. There are endless possibilities ahead. I am hopeful because the pain I burdened on my shoulder is now gone. . . This next awe-inspiring milestone is my college graduation. I am 21 years old. My back is facing the camera because deep down I am ashamed at the person I had become ; almost hypocritical due to the words embroidered on my cap. I thought immediately after, "I am glad I cannot see my face. I am ashamed of what I was then." I almost died by my own hand. Yes. I fought so hard , practically alone , though seemingly surrounded by significant support systems to achieve what I had done on this day. . . Now this last photo , as transparent as I can be , I am telling those who are black , who are gay , who are hurt , who are alone , who are ignored and hated ; I am doing fine now. I am finding myself. I am loving myself. I am no longer ashamed of what I once was but grateful I can share my story. I am not alone. I know that I am not. So I beg of the people that this could reach : fight and be brave. Please be brave. Because it does get better. Namaste. #gayman #gayofinstagram #gaystagram #itgetsbetter #ｇａｙ #gay #pride #pride🌈 #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtpride #nonbinary #transisbeautiful #menlovegay #lgbtcommunity #breakstigma #lovewins #loveyourbody #gaymodel @menlovegay #findingmyself #iamwhoiam #inspiration #motivationalquotes

[ruthellisneda]

{#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety

I used to suffer from absolutely crippling social anxiety.

I have vivid memories of going into a complete freeze response when a co-worker asked me the baffling but well-intentioned question “what’s good?”

I fled from the trainer lounge at my gym more times than I can count, because another person would come in and I would panic. I worried about what I should say, what they might ask me, what the right answer was to their question, and worst of all if I was “being weird” as I silently got up and left in the hopes that they didn’t see me.

Spoiler alert: YES I was being weird, because obviously they could see me. Anxiety makes people act fucking weird.

My partner at the time told me I should try just saying “good morning” and being friendly, and then it wouldn’t be so awkward. I broke down in hysterical sobbing, and told him it wasn’t that easy! I just… couldn’t.

I crossed streets to avoid people I knew because I was terrified of awkward small talk, and unsure of how to leave the interaction once it began.

I never answered my phone unless I already knew what the person wanted.

I took the stairs because standing in the elevator with someone I knew made me want to die.

I shrunk into corners at my partner’s social events, desperately wishing I could become invisible.

Looking back, I felt like there was some kind of set of social rules everyone else was privy to, but that I didn’t get, and that feeling was constantly triggering me into fight or flight.

The wild thing is that despite being a completely awkward weirdo socially, I was always super confident in my role as a personal trainer.

I was never awkward with a new client, because I knew the “rules” and what they expected of me. I was the authority, so I knew what I was there to offer, and for the most part, I knew that the person already liked or respected me. It was easy.

But among my coworkers or friends or random people I met? Nope. My mind went into a blank and fearful place, trying desperately to figure out what they like, what they wanted, and what they expected of me. Fear would hijack my body and I’d find myself thinking how would a normal people stand? Like this?? Is this what a normal person does with their hands?!

All of this anxiety, built up over years, led to me feeling completely isolated, disconnected from people, awkward, and deeply lonely. I had one best friend, but no network, no circle, nobody that I met up with regularly for drinks or dancing or talking or networking or fun.

People just suck, I concluded. People don’t get me, and I don’t know how to do “small talk.”

I can’t help but laugh at that now, from a future that is chock of abundantly nourishing connections. People don’t suck, I know now. It was I who sucked.

I was bringing out the absolute worst in people, by acting weird and cold. I pushed people away by turning down invites and never reaching out. I forgot people’s names and was unable to actually listen to anything real about them because I was too busy thinking about whether or not I was being weird. I made people uncomfortable; I made them defensive; I forced them to do all the work of every interaction.

It wasn’t on purpose, of course! I was just overcome with fear and anxiety. I was trying so hard to follow the rules and be “normal,” that I ended up making it completely impossible to genuinely connect with me.

One of the most important moments in my journey to overcoming social anxiety came when I realized two things:

Nearly everyone I knew had social anxiety. Everyone was doing exactly the same thing I had been doing, trying to act “normal” while secretly just hoping people liked them.

I had been desperately trying to not have an impact on people, but doing so had an impact anyway– a negative impact that made them feel judged, unwelcome, and like I didn’t like them.

Well, shit.

As soon as I realized this, I also realized something else: that I was in a unique position to both understand this about people, and also to do something about it. That my natural emotional sensitivity could be a gift, if I stopped using it to protect myself and instead started using it to make the world a better place.

Practically overnight, my social anxiety disappeared.

I became a woman on a mission, proactively creating experiences among my peers rather than reactively trying to do what my superiors wanted/expected.

I let myself be warm and vulnerable, and saw what an instantly positive and disarming effect that had on others. I focused on the other person, making eye contact, really listening, and asking them questions, which instantly made people both more interesting and more friendly.

I found myself having moments of connection and “oh me too!” with everyone I interacted with, and seemingly like magic, my life became populated with friends who I was completely myself with, networking opportunities who effortlessly helped my business thrive, and the general sense that there was something to love about every new person I met.

At a certain point I realized I hadn’t felt a single moment of anxiety in months, and tried to put into words exactly what had shifted. There were many things that contributed to be sure, but the biggest one was how I viewed my role in my own social interactions.

I went from being reactive and disempowered (trying to play a game where everyone but me knew the rules) to being an active creator in the game, in charge of clearly letting other people know the rules, so that they would feel free to relax and play with me.

The results were undeniable: everyone seemed to go from being awkward and cold to offering me the best versions of themselves. As it turns out, people are funny and nice and interesting and cool, when you make them feel safe. Who knew?

Now I sometimes feel like an anti-anxiety superhero, going around the world making people feel safe enough to show their true (wonderful) colors, and it feels amazing. I go out of my way to make sure people know I like them, and in return I am rewarded with access to a person I can genuinely like.

It rarely fails: I ask questions and listen, observe what I see in them, and share genuine stories about myself, sticking my neck out and getting vulnerable first so they know they’re safe to do the same.

It never fails to surprise me how grateful people seemed to be to get away from superficial smalltalk and talk about real shit. (It turns out nobody knows or likes the supposed “social rules” lol.)

What’s your relationship to social anxiety? What’s been the most helpful for you in overcoming it?

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

https://ift.tt/2GO7nZ6

[albertcaldwellne]

{#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety

I used to suffer from absolutely crippling social anxiety.

I have vivid memories of going into a complete freeze response when a co-worker asked me the baffling but well-intentioned question “what’s good?”

I fled from the trainer lounge at my gym more times than I can count, because another person would come in and I would panic. I worried about what I should say, what they might ask me, what the right answer was to their question, and worst of all if I was “being weird” as I silently got up and left in the hopes that they didn’t see me.

Spoiler alert: YES I was being weird, because obviously they could see me. Anxiety makes people act fucking weird.

My partner at the time told me I should try just saying “good morning” and being friendly, and then it wouldn’t be so awkward. I broke down in hysterical sobbing, and told him it wasn’t that easy! I just… couldn’t.

I crossed streets to avoid people I knew because I was terrified of awkward small talk, and unsure of how to leave the interaction once it began.

I never answered my phone unless I already knew what the person wanted.

I took the stairs because standing in the elevator with someone I knew made me want to die.

I shrunk into corners at my partner’s social events, desperately wishing I could become invisible.

Looking back, I felt like there was some kind of set of social rules everyone else was privy to, but that I didn’t get, and that feeling was constantly triggering me into fight or flight.

The wild thing is that despite being a completely awkward weirdo socially, I was always super confident in my role as a personal trainer.

I was never awkward with a new client, because I knew the “rules” and what they expected of me. I was the authority, so I knew what I was there to offer, and for the most part, I knew that the person already liked or respected me. It was easy.

But among my coworkers or friends or random people I met? Nope. My mind went into a blank and fearful place, trying desperately to figure out what they like, what they wanted, and what they expected of me. Fear would hijack my body and I’d find myself thinking how would a normal people stand? Like this?? Is this what a normal person does with their hands?!

All of this anxiety, built up over years, led to me feeling completely isolated, disconnected from people, awkward, and deeply lonely. I had one best friend, but no network, no circle, nobody that I met up with regularly for drinks or dancing or talking or networking or fun.

People just suck, I concluded. People don’t get me, and I don’t know how to do “small talk.”

I can’t help but laugh at that now, from a future that is chock of abundantly nourishing connections. People don’t suck, I know now. It was I who sucked.

I was bringing out the absolute worst in people, by acting weird and cold. I pushed people away by turning down invites and never reaching out. I forgot people’s names and was unable to actually listen to anything real about them because I was too busy thinking about whether or not I was being weird. I made people uncomfortable; I made them defensive; I forced them to do all the work of every interaction.

It wasn’t on purpose, of course! I was just overcome with fear and anxiety. I was trying so hard to follow the rules and be “normal,” that I ended up making it completely impossible to genuinely connect with me.

One of the most important moments in my journey to overcoming social anxiety came when I realized two things:

Nearly everyone I knew had social anxiety. Everyone was doing exactly the same thing I had been doing, trying to act “normal” while secretly just hoping people liked them.

I had been desperately trying to not have an impact on people, but doing so had an impact anyway– a negative impact that made them feel judged, unwelcome, and like I didn’t like them.

Well, shit.

As soon as I realized this, I also realized something else: that I was in a unique position to both understand this about people, and also to do something about it. That my natural emotional sensitivity could be a gift, if I stopped using it to protect myself and instead started using it to make the world a better place.

Practically overnight, my social anxiety disappeared.

I became a woman on a mission, proactively creating experiences among my peers rather than reactively trying to do what my superiors wanted/expected.

I let myself be warm and vulnerable, and saw what an instantly positive and disarming effect that had on others. I focused on the other person, making eye contact, really listening, and asking them questions, which instantly made people both more interesting and more friendly.

I found myself having moments of connection and “oh me too!” with everyone I interacted with, and seemingly like magic, my life became populated with friends who I was completely myself with, networking opportunities who effortlessly helped my business thrive, and the general sense that there was something to love about every new person I met.

At a certain point I realized I hadn’t felt a single moment of anxiety in months, and tried to put into words exactly what had shifted. There were many things that contributed to be sure, but the biggest one was how I viewed my role in my own social interactions.

I went from being reactive and disempowered (trying to play a game where everyone but me knew the rules) to being an active creator in the game, in charge of clearly letting other people know the rules, so that they would feel free to relax and play with me.

The results were undeniable: everyone seemed to go from being awkward and cold to offering me the best versions of themselves. As it turns out, people are funny and nice and interesting and cool, when you make them feel safe. Who knew?

Now I sometimes feel like an anti-anxiety superhero, going around the world making people feel safe enough to show their true (wonderful) colors, and it feels amazing. I go out of my way to make sure people know I like them, and in return I am rewarded with access to a person I can genuinely like.

It rarely fails: I ask questions and listen, observe what I see in them, and share genuine stories about myself, sticking my neck out and getting vulnerable first so they know they’re safe to do the same.

It never fails to surprise me how grateful people seemed to be to get away from superficial smalltalk and talk about real shit. (It turns out nobody knows or likes the supposed “social rules” lol.)

What’s your relationship to social anxiety? What’s been the most helpful for you in overcoming it?

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

https://ift.tt/2GO7nZ6

[aprilbaytan]

"In overwhelming anxiety, she found overwhelming grace." - Morgan Harper Nichols . . .::TRANSPARENT TUESDAY::. . Throughout this year I've had the greatest challenges and greatest rewards with my mind and body. In addition, the growing pains of being a creative entrepreneur have hit me hard which is such a blessing but also quite scary! I am so grateful for my growing business and all the continued opportunities it brings, even if it pushes me out of my comfort zone! . Juggling it all sometimes gets the best of me, these past couple of weeks, I definitely have not been my best experiencing all sorts of continued challenges. But even then, through it all, I can wholeheartedly say I'v never been happier. My heart has never been fuller, I continue to feel more and more in love with this guy, and as anxious and scared as I've been feeling, I am also very excited for all we have coming our way, whatever that may be. I love you @tophbacon - thank you for always granting me the grace I often fail to give myself. . Special shout-out to our love @amandaweiphoto for this photo after a lot of hard work and for always showering us with love!. . #us #qotd #real #love #transparent #transparenttuesday (at Santa Ynez, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bob6Oxen0jt/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=6e5m67y193wr

[healthprivates]

{#TransparentTuesday} When I’m a REAL adult… http://bit.ly/2Ib8iDc

If you’ve been following my journey on Instagram, you already know that I went back on the pill recently, as a desperate (and successful) attempt to stop the tsunami of damage PMDD was causing.

I had spent 14 months hormone-free, in an attempt to get to know my natural menstrual cycle, despite the fact that it broke me down in ways I didn’t know were possible. Now, over a month on the pill and completely free of the symptoms that were destroying my life for the last year, I look back and I wonder why I waited so long to take this action.

I know the answer will continue to develop as I process and recover, but right now I’m stuck on something relating to deeply nuanced layers of self-acceptance, self-identity, and self-expectations.

As long as I can remember, I’ve  had an image of myself.

This image wasn’t about “who I am,” but rather “who I want to be,” and “who I think I’ll be.”

Many different influences participated in the creation of this image of who I would become– some of it was straight up wishful thinking, some of it was internalized beliefs based on observations about me from people who know me, and (naturally) some of it came from societal messages about what a woman “should” be like.

Part of this image is hard to explain, but I always saw myself as eventually becoming a sort of… magical, mystical, spiritual, woo-woo feminine hippy earth goddess.

Ya know?

Some of this came from experience (I do believe in a certain brand of magic) and some of it came from feeling like now that I’ve arrived in my 30s, I “should” embrace my feminine and crunchy granola side. Even when I was living a life that indicated these parts of myself barely existed, I always felt like… “someday when I become a REAL adult, I’ll finally do things like composting, drinking tea, and celebrating the magic of menstruation.”

This last year and a half, I’ve been working so hard to become this “real adult” version of myself that I never realized I was going the completely wrong direction.

When I went hormone-free, I thought that all the ovulating, bleeding, and tapping into my “real” female cycle would be the pathway to finally be able to hone and integrate this underdeveloped side of me. I was convinced for whatever reason that some fairy-goddess-domestic-earth-mother part of me exists (and should exist), and felt like it was finally time to access to her.

Looking back, I can see why this plan felt so frustrating and difficult: it wasn’t me. I don’t believe in or enjoy most of the shit I was trying to “embrace,” but I’m an all-in committed kind of person, so when it didn’t work, I just doubled down harder.

Of course, that didn’t work either.

Because the kind of feminine spiritual magic I was pushing myself toward was just a picture I had in my head of the “right way” to be an adult; the “right way” to be a powerfully conscious leader of women. It was never me.

The kind of spirituality I believe in is the magic of stories, placebo, suggestion, and making someone feel heard. The magic that moves me comes from unconditional positive regard, and communal support, and birthdays, and fresh starts. To me there is something unarguably divine about the human body and our capacity to heal from trauma, and I bliss out on modern neuroscience.

I talk directly to my body, and the moon, and the universe, and my emotions. In many ways I already am weird and woo-woo, but in many ways I’m just not. And somewhere along the way I decided this conflict represented a problem with me, and I just needed to learn how to be conscious and feminine the “right” way.

I felt like I was too magical to be scientific, and too scientific to be magical; too much of a free spirit to be grounded, and too grounded to be a free-spirit. I think, all this time, I was still holding out hope that when I became a Proper Adult, the conflict would dissolve and I would finally make sense.

What this amounted to was trying to force myself to become something I’m not; to flatten out my complicated details; to become something other people could understand.

Sometimes being complicated is exhausting, and lonely. Even the people who seemed to vibe with me and connect with my beliefs often turned out to believe things that were completely unpalatable to me.

I wanted to believe in crystals, and essential oils, and mythology, and the power of positive thinking. I wanted to understand those people, and I wanted to be easier to understand. But I couldn’t.

Looking back now, I can see how diving headfirst into yin, softness, slowing down, domestic life, feminine energy, and other earth-mother-hippy-goddess stuff was an attempt to finally let myself “get there.” But I wasn’t honoring my truth, I was honoring a fantasy; a wish; a hope.

The hope was that if I could just understand the right way to be weird, I might finally feel normal.

Now that the grand hormone-free experiment is over, my energy and mood have shifted too. While I learned many valuable lessons and gained many important insights, it’s an enormous relief to let go of all that work, and return to my deepest truth.

It’s time to re-embrace the exact kind of weird that I am: the hustler and the lover, the storyteller and the scientist, the sensualist and the entrepreneur.

To be honest, I’m excited.

I don’t believe in a lot of the stuff that “people like me” seem to believe in, but sometimes I cry while reading books on neuroscience and trauma resolution, because it feels like proof to me of a benevolent and divine force.

I don’t believe in astrological significance, but sometimes I talk to the moon because she has been my companion for 31 years and I feel compelled to honor such a long relationship.

I collect crystals because they’re pretty, and I light sage because it smells good.

Sometimes I am filled with love and light, and sometimes I am filled with darkness and cookie dough. (And none of that is a problem.)

Now that my hormones are stable, it’s time to expand again. It’s time to fill out my biggest self again, to release everything that wasn’t me, and to move my life back into alignment with my truth.

Ahhhh self-acceptance work never ends.

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} When I’m a REAL adult… appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

[johnclapperne]

{#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety

I used to suffer from absolutely crippling social anxiety.

I have vivid memories of going into a complete freeze response when a co-worker asked me the baffling but well-intentioned question “what’s good?”

I fled from the trainer lounge at my gym more times than I can count, because another person would come in and I would panic. I worried about what I should say, what they might ask me, what the right answer was to their question, and worst of all if I was “being weird” as I silently got up and left in the hopes that they didn’t see me.

Spoiler alert: YES I was being weird, because obviously they could see me. Anxiety makes people act fucking weird.

My partner at the time told me I should try just saying “good morning” and being friendly, and then it wouldn’t be so awkward. I broke down in hysterical sobbing, and told him it wasn’t that easy! I just… couldn’t.

I crossed streets to avoid people I knew because I was terrified of awkward small talk, and unsure of how to leave the interaction once it began.

I never answered my phone unless I already knew what the person wanted.

I took the stairs because standing in the elevator with someone I knew made me want to die.

I shrunk into corners at my partner’s social events, desperately wishing I could become invisible.

Looking back, I felt like there was some kind of set of social rules everyone else was privy to, but that I didn’t get, and that feeling was constantly triggering me into fight or flight.

The wild thing is that despite being a completely awkward weirdo socially, I was always super confident in my role as a personal trainer.

I was never awkward with a new client, because I knew the “rules” and what they expected of me. I was the authority, so I knew what I was there to offer, and for the most part, I knew that the person already liked or respected me. It was easy.

But among my coworkers or friends or random people I met? Nope. My mind went into a blank and fearful place, trying desperately to figure out what they like, what they wanted, and what they expected of me. Fear would hijack my body and I’d find myself thinking how would a normal people stand? Like this?? Is this what a normal person does with their hands?!

All of this anxiety, built up over years, led to me feeling completely isolated, disconnected from people, awkward, and deeply lonely. I had one best friend, but no network, no circle, nobody that I met up with regularly for drinks or dancing or talking or networking or fun.

People just suck, I concluded. People don’t get me, and I don’t know how to do “small talk.”

I can’t help but laugh at that now, from a future that is chock of abundantly nourishing connections. People don’t suck, I know now. It was I who sucked.

I was bringing out the absolute worst in people, by acting weird and cold. I pushed people away by turning down invites and never reaching out. I forgot people’s names and was unable to actually listen to anything real about them because I was too busy thinking about whether or not I was being weird. I made people uncomfortable; I made them defensive; I forced them to do all the work of every interaction.

It wasn’t on purpose, of course! I was just overcome with fear and anxiety. I was trying so hard to follow the rules and be “normal,” that I ended up making it completely impossible to genuinely connect with me.

One of the most important moments in my journey to overcoming social anxiety came when I realized two things:

Nearly everyone I knew had social anxiety. Everyone was doing exactly the same thing I had been doing, trying to act “normal” while secretly just hoping people liked them.

I had been desperately trying to not have an impact on people, but doing so had an impact anyway– a negative impact that made them feel judged, unwelcome, and like I didn’t like them.

Well, shit.

As soon as I realized this, I also realized something else: that I was in a unique position to both understand this about people, and also to do something about it. That my natural emotional sensitivity could be a gift, if I stopped using it to protect myself and instead started using it to make the world a better place.

Practically overnight, my social anxiety disappeared.

I became a woman on a mission, proactively creating experiences among my peers rather than reactively trying to do what my superiors wanted/expected.

I let myself be warm and vulnerable, and saw what an instantly positive and disarming effect that had on others. I focused on the other person, making eye contact, really listening, and asking them questions, which instantly made people both more interesting and more friendly.

I found myself having moments of connection and “oh me too!” with everyone I interacted with, and seemingly like magic, my life became populated with friends who I was completely myself with, networking opportunities who effortlessly helped my business thrive, and the general sense that there was something to love about every new person I met.

At a certain point I realized I hadn’t felt a single moment of anxiety in months, and tried to put into words exactly what had shifted. There were many things that contributed to be sure, but the biggest one was how I viewed my role in my own social interactions.

I went from being reactive and disempowered (trying to play a game where everyone but me knew the rules) to being an active creator in the game, in charge of clearly letting other people know the rules, so that they would feel free to relax and play with me.

The results were undeniable: everyone seemed to go from being awkward and cold to offering me the best versions of themselves. As it turns out, people are funny and nice and interesting and cool, when you make them feel safe. Who knew?

Now I sometimes feel like an anti-anxiety superhero, going around the world making people feel safe enough to show their true (wonderful) colors, and it feels amazing. I go out of my way to make sure people know I like them, and in return I am rewarded with access to a person I can genuinely like.

It rarely fails: I ask questions and listen, observe what I see in them, and share genuine stories about myself, sticking my neck out and getting vulnerable first so they know they’re safe to do the same.

It never fails to surprise me how grateful people seemed to be to get away from superficial smalltalk and talk about real shit. (It turns out nobody knows or likes the supposed “social rules” lol.)

What’s your relationship to social anxiety? What’s been the most helpful for you in overcoming it?

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

https://ift.tt/2GO7nZ6

[neilmillerne]

{#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety

I used to suffer from absolutely crippling social anxiety.

I have vivid memories of going into a complete freeze response when a co-worker asked me the baffling but well-intentioned question “what’s good?”

I fled from the trainer lounge at my gym more times than I can count, because another person would come in and I would panic. I worried about what I should say, what they might ask me, what the right answer was to their question, and worst of all if I was “being weird” as I silently got up and left in the hopes that they didn’t see me.

Spoiler alert: YES I was being weird, because obviously they could see me. Anxiety makes people act fucking weird.

My partner at the time told me I should try just saying “good morning” and being friendly, and then it wouldn’t be so awkward. I broke down in hysterical sobbing, and told him it wasn’t that easy! I just… couldn’t.

I crossed streets to avoid people I knew because I was terrified of awkward small talk, and unsure of how to leave the interaction once it began.

I never answered my phone unless I already knew what the person wanted.

I took the stairs because standing in the elevator with someone I knew made me want to die.

I shrunk into corners at my partner’s social events, desperately wishing I could become invisible.

Looking back, I felt like there was some kind of set of social rules everyone else was privy to, but that I didn’t get, and that feeling was constantly triggering me into fight or flight.

The wild thing is that despite being a completely awkward weirdo socially, I was always super confident in my role as a personal trainer.

I was never awkward with a new client, because I knew the “rules” and what they expected of me. I was the authority, so I knew what I was there to offer, and for the most part, I knew that the person already liked or respected me. It was easy.

But among my coworkers or friends or random people I met? Nope. My mind went into a blank and fearful place, trying desperately to figure out what they like, what they wanted, and what they expected of me. Fear would hijack my body and I’d find myself thinking how would a normal people stand? Like this?? Is this what a normal person does with their hands?!

All of this anxiety, built up over years, led to me feeling completely isolated, disconnected from people, awkward, and deeply lonely. I had one best friend, but no network, no circle, nobody that I met up with regularly for drinks or dancing or talking or networking or fun.

People just suck, I concluded. People don’t get me, and I don’t know how to do “small talk.”

I can’t help but laugh at that now, from a future that is chock of abundantly nourishing connections. People don’t suck, I know now. It was I who sucked.

I was bringing out the absolute worst in people, by acting weird and cold. I pushed people away by turning down invites and never reaching out. I forgot people’s names and was unable to actually listen to anything real about them because I was too busy thinking about whether or not I was being weird. I made people uncomfortable; I made them defensive; I forced them to do all the work of every interaction.

It wasn’t on purpose, of course! I was just overcome with fear and anxiety. I was trying so hard to follow the rules and be “normal,” that I ended up making it completely impossible to genuinely connect with me.

One of the most important moments in my journey to overcoming social anxiety came when I realized two things:

Nearly everyone I knew had social anxiety. Everyone was doing exactly the same thing I had been doing, trying to act “normal” while secretly just hoping people liked them.

I had been desperately trying to not have an impact on people, but doing so had an impact anyway– a negative impact that made them feel judged, unwelcome, and like I didn’t like them.

Well, shit.

As soon as I realized this, I also realized something else: that I was in a unique position to both understand this about people, and also to do something about it. That my natural emotional sensitivity could be a gift, if I stopped using it to protect myself and instead started using it to make the world a better place.

Practically overnight, my social anxiety disappeared.

I became a woman on a mission, proactively creating experiences among my peers rather than reactively trying to do what my superiors wanted/expected.

I let myself be warm and vulnerable, and saw what an instantly positive and disarming effect that had on others. I focused on the other person, making eye contact, really listening, and asking them questions, which instantly made people both more interesting and more friendly.

I found myself having moments of connection and “oh me too!” with everyone I interacted with, and seemingly like magic, my life became populated with friends who I was completely myself with, networking opportunities who effortlessly helped my business thrive, and the general sense that there was something to love about every new person I met.

At a certain point I realized I hadn’t felt a single moment of anxiety in months, and tried to put into words exactly what had shifted. There were many things that contributed to be sure, but the biggest one was how I viewed my role in my own social interactions.

I went from being reactive and disempowered (trying to play a game where everyone but me knew the rules) to being an active creator in the game, in charge of clearly letting other people know the rules, so that they would feel free to relax and play with me.

The results were undeniable: everyone seemed to go from being awkward and cold to offering me the best versions of themselves. As it turns out, people are funny and nice and interesting and cool, when you make them feel safe. Who knew?

Now I sometimes feel like an anti-anxiety superhero, going around the world making people feel safe enough to show their true (wonderful) colors, and it feels amazing. I go out of my way to make sure people know I like them, and in return I am rewarded with access to a person I can genuinely like.

It rarely fails: I ask questions and listen, observe what I see in them, and share genuine stories about myself, sticking my neck out and getting vulnerable first so they know they’re safe to do the same.

It never fails to surprise me how grateful people seemed to be to get away from superficial smalltalk and talk about real shit. (It turns out nobody knows or likes the supposed “social rules” lol.)

What’s your relationship to social anxiety? What’s been the most helpful for you in overcoming it?

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

https://ift.tt/2GO7nZ6

[almajonesnjna]

{#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety

I used to suffer from absolutely crippling social anxiety.

I have vivid memories of going into a complete freeze response when a co-worker asked me the baffling but well-intentioned question “what’s good?”

I fled from the trainer lounge at my gym more times than I can count, because another person would come in and I would panic. I worried about what I should say, what they might ask me, what the right answer was to their question, and worst of all if I was “being weird” as I silently got up and left in the hopes that they didn’t see me.

Spoiler alert: YES I was being weird, because obviously they could see me. Anxiety makes people act fucking weird.

My partner at the time told me I should try just saying “good morning” and being friendly, and then it wouldn’t be so awkward. I broke down in hysterical sobbing, and told him it wasn’t that easy! I just… couldn’t.

I crossed streets to avoid people I knew because I was terrified of awkward small talk, and unsure of how to leave the interaction once it began.

I never answered my phone unless I already knew what the person wanted.

I took the stairs because standing in the elevator with someone I knew made me want to die.

I shrunk into corners at my partner’s social events, desperately wishing I could become invisible.

Looking back, I felt like there was some kind of set of social rules everyone else was privy to, but that I didn’t get, and that feeling was constantly triggering me into fight or flight.

The wild thing is that despite being a completely awkward weirdo socially, I was always super confident in my role as a personal trainer.

I was never awkward with a new client, because I knew the “rules” and what they expected of me. I was the authority, so I knew what I was there to offer, and for the most part, I knew that the person already liked or respected me. It was easy.

But among my coworkers or friends or random people I met? Nope. My mind went into a blank and fearful place, trying desperately to figure out what they like, what they wanted, and what they expected of me. Fear would hijack my body and I’d find myself thinking how would a normal people stand? Like this?? Is this what a normal person does with their hands?!

All of this anxiety, built up over years, led to me feeling completely isolated, disconnected from people, awkward, and deeply lonely. I had one best friend, but no network, no circle, nobody that I met up with regularly for drinks or dancing or talking or networking or fun.

People just suck, I concluded. People don’t get me, and I don’t know how to do “small talk.”

I can’t help but laugh at that now, from a future that is chock of abundantly nourishing connections. People don’t suck, I know now. It was I who sucked.

I was bringing out the absolute worst in people, by acting weird and cold. I pushed people away by turning down invites and never reaching out. I forgot people’s names and was unable to actually listen to anything real about them because I was too busy thinking about whether or not I was being weird. I made people uncomfortable; I made them defensive; I forced them to do all the work of every interaction.

It wasn’t on purpose, of course! I was just overcome with fear and anxiety. I was trying so hard to follow the rules and be “normal,” that I ended up making it completely impossible to genuinely connect with me.

One of the most important moments in my journey to overcoming social anxiety came when I realized two things:

Nearly everyone I knew had social anxiety. Everyone was doing exactly the same thing I had been doing, trying to act “normal” while secretly just hoping people liked them.

I had been desperately trying to not have an impact on people, but doing so had an impact anyway– a negative impact that made them feel judged, unwelcome, and like I didn’t like them.

Well, shit.

As soon as I realized this, I also realized something else: that I was in a unique position to both understand this about people, and also to do something about it. That my natural emotional sensitivity could be a gift, if I stopped using it to protect myself and instead started using it to make the world a better place.

Practically overnight, my social anxiety disappeared.

I became a woman on a mission, proactively creating experiences among my peers rather than reactively trying to do what my superiors wanted/expected.

I let myself be warm and vulnerable, and saw what an instantly positive and disarming effect that had on others. I focused on the other person, making eye contact, really listening, and asking them questions, which instantly made people both more interesting and more friendly.

I found myself having moments of connection and “oh me too!” with everyone I interacted with, and seemingly like magic, my life became populated with friends who I was completely myself with, networking opportunities who effortlessly helped my business thrive, and the general sense that there was something to love about every new person I met.

At a certain point I realized I hadn’t felt a single moment of anxiety in months, and tried to put into words exactly what had shifted. There were many things that contributed to be sure, but the biggest one was how I viewed my role in my own social interactions.

I went from being reactive and disempowered (trying to play a game where everyone but me knew the rules) to being an active creator in the game, in charge of clearly letting other people know the rules, so that they would feel free to relax and play with me.

The results were undeniable: everyone seemed to go from being awkward and cold to offering me the best versions of themselves. As it turns out, people are funny and nice and interesting and cool, when you make them feel safe. Who knew?

Now I sometimes feel like an anti-anxiety superhero, going around the world making people feel safe enough to show their true (wonderful) colors, and it feels amazing. I go out of my way to make sure people know I like them, and in return I am rewarded with access to a person I can genuinely like.

It rarely fails: I ask questions and listen, observe what I see in them, and share genuine stories about myself, sticking my neck out and getting vulnerable first so they know they’re safe to do the same.

It never fails to surprise me how grateful people seemed to be to get away from superficial smalltalk and talk about real shit. (It turns out nobody knows or likes the supposed “social rules” lol.)

What’s your relationship to social anxiety? What’s been the most helpful for you in overcoming it?

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

https://ift.tt/2GO7nZ6

[joshuabradleyn]

{#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety

I used to suffer from absolutely crippling social anxiety.

I have vivid memories of going into a complete freeze response when a co-worker asked me the baffling but well-intentioned question “what’s good?”

I fled from the trainer lounge at my gym more times than I can count, because another person would come in and I would panic. I worried about what I should say, what they might ask me, what the right answer was to their question, and worst of all if I was “being weird” as I silently got up and left in the hopes that they didn’t see me.

Spoiler alert: YES I was being weird, because obviously they could see me. Anxiety makes people act fucking weird.

My partner at the time told me I should try just saying “good morning” and being friendly, and then it wouldn’t be so awkward. I broke down in hysterical sobbing, and told him it wasn’t that easy! I just… couldn’t.

I crossed streets to avoid people I knew because I was terrified of awkward small talk, and unsure of how to leave the interaction once it began.

I never answered my phone unless I already knew what the person wanted.

I took the stairs because standing in the elevator with someone I knew made me want to die.

I shrunk into corners at my partner’s social events, desperately wishing I could become invisible.

Looking back, I felt like there was some kind of set of social rules everyone else was privy to, but that I didn’t get, and that feeling was constantly triggering me into fight or flight.

The wild thing is that despite being a completely awkward weirdo socially, I was always super confident in my role as a personal trainer.

I was never awkward with a new client, because I knew the “rules” and what they expected of me. I was the authority, so I knew what I was there to offer, and for the most part, I knew that the person already liked or respected me. It was easy.

But among my coworkers or friends or random people I met? Nope. My mind went into a blank and fearful place, trying desperately to figure out what they like, what they wanted, and what they expected of me. Fear would hijack my body and I’d find myself thinking how would a normal people stand? Like this?? Is this what a normal person does with their hands?!

All of this anxiety, built up over years, led to me feeling completely isolated, disconnected from people, awkward, and deeply lonely. I had one best friend, but no network, no circle, nobody that I met up with regularly for drinks or dancing or talking or networking or fun.

People just suck, I concluded. People don’t get me, and I don’t know how to do “small talk.”

I can’t help but laugh at that now, from a future that is chock of abundantly nourishing connections. People don’t suck, I know now. It was I who sucked.

I was bringing out the absolute worst in people, by acting weird and cold. I pushed people away by turning down invites and never reaching out. I forgot people’s names and was unable to actually listen to anything real about them because I was too busy thinking about whether or not I was being weird. I made people uncomfortable; I made them defensive; I forced them to do all the work of every interaction.

It wasn’t on purpose, of course! I was just overcome with fear and anxiety. I was trying so hard to follow the rules and be “normal,” that I ended up making it completely impossible to genuinely connect with me.

One of the most important moments in my journey to overcoming social anxiety came when I realized two things:

Nearly everyone I knew had social anxiety. Everyone was doing exactly the same thing I had been doing, trying to act “normal” while secretly just hoping people liked them.

I had been desperately trying to not have an impact on people, but doing so had an impact anyway– a negative impact that made them feel judged, unwelcome, and like I didn’t like them.

Well, shit.

As soon as I realized this, I also realized something else: that I was in a unique position to both understand this about people, and also to do something about it. That my natural emotional sensitivity could be a gift, if I stopped using it to protect myself and instead started using it to make the world a better place.

Practically overnight, my social anxiety disappeared.

I became a woman on a mission, proactively creating experiences among my peers rather than reactively trying to do what my superiors wanted/expected.

I let myself be warm and vulnerable, and saw what an instantly positive and disarming effect that had on others. I focused on the other person, making eye contact, really listening, and asking them questions, which instantly made people both more interesting and more friendly.

I found myself having moments of connection and “oh me too!” with everyone I interacted with, and seemingly like magic, my life became populated with friends who I was completely myself with, networking opportunities who effortlessly helped my business thrive, and the general sense that there was something to love about every new person I met.

At a certain point I realized I hadn’t felt a single moment of anxiety in months, and tried to put into words exactly what had shifted. There were many things that contributed to be sure, but the biggest one was how I viewed my role in my own social interactions.

I went from being reactive and disempowered (trying to play a game where everyone but me knew the rules) to being an active creator in the game, in charge of clearly letting other people know the rules, so that they would feel free to relax and play with me.

The results were undeniable: everyone seemed to go from being awkward and cold to offering me the best versions of themselves. As it turns out, people are funny and nice and interesting and cool, when you make them feel safe. Who knew?

Now I sometimes feel like an anti-anxiety superhero, going around the world making people feel safe enough to show their true (wonderful) colors, and it feels amazing. I go out of my way to make sure people know I like them, and in return I am rewarded with access to a person I can genuinely like.

It rarely fails: I ask questions and listen, observe what I see in them, and share genuine stories about myself, sticking my neck out and getting vulnerable first so they know they’re safe to do the same.

It never fails to surprise me how grateful people seemed to be to get away from superficial smalltalk and talk about real shit. (It turns out nobody knows or likes the supposed “social rules” lol.)

What’s your relationship to social anxiety? What’s been the most helpful for you in overcoming it?

<3 Jessi

The post {#TransparentTuesday} Social Anxiety appeared first on Jessi Kneeland.

https://ift.tt/2GO7nZ6

[amsrober02-blog]

Oh Christmas Tree  #transparentTuesday

I realized I never posted one last week, but with the holidays, life got busy. This is my absolute favorite time of year. I’ve always been the one that had my tree up the day after Halloween. Not anymore though. My husband insists on a real tree, and because I’m cheap, we end up getting it from Lowe’s because they’re so much more affordable. It’s hard to have up a real tree that long, so now I wait. I’ll admit, I love the smell of a real tree. We bought our Christmas tree last night (a live one) in the blowing, cold snow. We got our snow soaked tree, brought it home, and realized one of the bottom branches was sort of broken. He trimmed it up, so now it’s a tall tree with a naked bottom. Why did we go out on a blowing, cold night? Who knows. This is just a typical night in my house. Lol! Oh well.... Tonight, the first thing Hunter wanted to do was put on the lights and ornaments. He wanted to wait on his sister, who was in no hurry to come downstairs to join us. We ended up putting the lights on all by ourselves. I started out annoyed as the lights got tangled on the branches and decided that someone needs to invent disposable lights because taking them off will be a nightmare too. The preteen decided to join us and we actually enjoyed putting the ornaments on and reminiscing about the history of each ornament. As each year passes, the kids get more and more amazed at “how old I am.” Did they have color tv back then? 🙄 Last year around this time, we made the decision to stop traveling as much. It’s expensive, and since we have a farm it’s even harder to leave. This year, we went back to Indiana for thanksgiving. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. I’m from a small town like this one, and when we come back, it’s impossible not to run into someone I know. We got to spend time with our precious families. I loved that the kids got to spend time with their cousins, but there were some that didn’t even know their names (or mine). It made me sad. I guess that’s the cost of living out of state. We have the best families. Both my immediate family and my in-laws are some of the most loving, sweet people that I know. I am so truly blessed to be in this family. We have busy lives and busy kids. It’s nearly Impossible to have that perfect balance. Isn’t that life though? It’s always a balancing act. We make the best decisions that we can for our family. We are trying to raise little humans and praying that we are doing the right thing. This is a very disorganized post, but it’s also my mind. Idk that this will speak to anyone this week, but I think what I would take away are these 5 things. 1. Don’t buy your tree on a snowy night. 2. Someone should make disposable Christmas lights. 3. We have to be purposeful in choosing joy. It doesn’t come natural. 4. My hometown has my heart, not because of where it is, but who is in it. 5. Life is hard to balance. If yours is, then so is someone else’s. What works for one doesn’t mean it will work for someone else. 6. We still haven’t painted the living room. Maybe someday .