Partners In Crime

3 things happened this week that illuminated a blind spot of mine that limits my ability to be free and live the life I want. I am going to use this blog to create some freedom for myself.

THING 1:

This week I almost did something that could have gotten me fired and in a lot of trouble.

Why am I admitting this?

Because it kind of freaked me out and I want to use it to expand my ability to speak up.

Here’s what happened: I was looking at a possible life insurance policy for someone. When she told me her weight, I was pretty sure it was over the limit for someone her height. I’m not positive, but I was pretty sure she would get denied.

She really wanted life insurance and my first instinct was to help her by making up a ficticious weight. That is illegal and fraudulent. Why would I even think to do that?

Good Question: If she had had a heart problem or cancer, I would just have told her that we should look at another type of policy because she wouldn’t qualify. But because it was her weight, I was unable to say something that would make her feel BAD ABOUT HER WEIGHT.

I felt bad for her and didn’t want to INSULT AND UPSET HER enough that I was tempted to do something illegal instead of telling the truth. That really scared me.

THING 2:

I have been making cold calls to businesses since early December. The first month I was doing great, full of life, energized, chatty and effective.

This week I was gun shy and putting off calling certain people.

Why?

Because they seemed upset with me the last time we talked. They were impatient, annoyed, ignored my calls, or just plain old hung up on me.

I didn’t like it and wanted to avoid them. Why? Because in my mind, I had obviously gotten them upset and didn’t want to make it worse.

I don’t like to GET PEOPLE UPSET, so I try to avoid doing the thing that seems to having gotten them that way EVEN IF IT HURTS MY ABILITY TO MAKE MONEY AND BE SUCCESSFUL. That was another disturbing realization.

THING 3:

Sometimes when people are talking to me for a long time, I get impatient. Especially when I need get off the phone and do something else. Up until now, it has been difficult for me to tell them I need to go.

Why?

Because I don’t want to upset them.

Are you seeing a pattern here?

When I think people are upset with me, I feel like a bad girl and need to hide. It’s probably a 4 year old behavior. It doesn’t work, but I do it anyway.

Now that I’ve told you my THINGS, I’m looking for a way out of my trap. I’m thinking I could start speaking up in a way that opens the lock on these types of behaviors.

POSSIBLE THINGS TO SAY:

Thing 1: I’m sorry, I’m not sure if you will qualify for this life product. We can try, but I don’t want you to be disappointed if it gets declined. What would you like to do?

Thing 2: Am I catching you at a bad time? When is a better time to call you?

Thing 3: Is there another time we can talk? I have some other things I promised myself I would get done during this hour. Can we talk later?

That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now I can have some freedom….

As far as the partners in crime go, I was telling a couple of people about my almost criminal act. I figured they would be horrified. Instead, they were almost giddy and shared with me some of their own criminal acts. I couldn’t believe it.

I was SO HAPPY that I wasn’t the ONLY BAD ONE. It freed something inside of me. I even got to add more words to my ABC’s of Badness. It is really fun to keep growing the list. It takes away the need to make myself wrong which gets me SO STUCK.

Very Freeing.

Enjoy Your Night and Thanks for Listening.

I Won’t Tell You How Long I Waited……

I had to record a video for my new course. My marketing guy, I’ll call him T., gave me the 10 minute script I needed to use. No problem.

T. showed me how to set up a teleprompter app on my phone and how to load the script in. No problem.

I know I needed to look good on the recording, but I am just not one of those people who can make my hair look good on my own. My strategy was to record the video after getting my hair cut so my hair would look good and not be an issue.

After my hair appointment, I went outside, recorded the script, and sent it to T, thinking that was all there was to it. Check that one off the list.

“Ummmm……You will need to practice some more,” T said.

“Really? Why?”

“This is a very important video. This is what people will see when they click our links. It needs to sound convincing but instead it sounds like you are reading it. There has to be more emotion.”

“Oh. OK,” I said. How hard can this be? I wanted to be an actress when I was young. I got this.

I recorded it again. And again. And again. And again. And kept getting no passes.

“Parts of it are good, but there are parts where it just sounds like you are reading a script. Have you watched it?” T. asked.

I didn’t want to admit that I hadn’t. I didn’t think I could stand to watch myself. I kept trying.

“The waves were too loud.”

“A plane flew overhead.”

And anytime someone called me I had to start all over again. This was not fun anymore. I still hadn’t washed my hair. Each day I thought was going to be the last day of torture. This was getting crazy.

Finally I told T. that I was really getting tired of this. And that I really needed to wash my hair.

“Well, this is really important. We know it’s hard, but it has to be done. This is the hardest thing you have to do for us.”

OMG. I’m starting to hate myself. I didn’t want to admit my predicament but finally I told a friend about my hair.

“Well I heard it’s not good to wash your hair so often,” she said, kindly. “It’s better not to. Something about the oils. It’s really not a problem if you don’t.”

“OK, good,” I thought, not sure if I believed it.

Days went by. This was getting ridiculous. But I knew that once I washed my hair, not only would my “acting” be a problem, but I’d have to add the not good hair issue as well. I couldn’t bear the thought.

I recorded two videos yesterday morning. I really thought they were good.

“I think I got it,” I told the boys. “They felt great.”

But then I looked at them. I had tried to record them inside in front of a painting. The script blocked half of my screen while recording. What I hadn’t seen was that only half was showing the painting. The other half of showed the messy inside corridor of my house. Now I really wanted to scream. CRAP!!!

“Never mind,” I told them. “They suck.”

I did 3 more last night inside. They didn’t get back to me so I decided this morning that I would just keep going. I was on a roll. If my hair was going to stay dirty, I might as well practice until I get it right.

Today I was calm. If I have to do more, it’s ok . I’m starting to get into this. I recorded outside in a nice warm dress. It was nice and sunny. I had my make-up done, my jewelry on and I was ready to roll. I even figure out how to put on the do not disturb for my phone. Amazing.

During the first try, the waves were loud and the wind knocked over my ringlight stand that held my phone camera. I barely caught it before it crashed on the ground and broke.

OK. Stay calm. I moved the stand as far in from the wind and waves as I could. I really put feeling and emotions into it. I got through the whole thing twice. It felt good but you never know. I uploaded them and distracted myself with my work.

Early afternoon I hadn’t heard anything. “Please let me know before it gets dark if I need to record these again,” I told T. “I need to catch the light.”

“Yes, watching now,” T replied. “This last one is really good The background is freaking beautiful. Almost looks fake, lol.”

Did I dare hope?

“Still watching….halfway through.”

Oh my God. I texted fingers crossed, prayers, etc. Minutes passed.

“We can def use this one, it’s really good. Good work!!!!” T finally said, adding a smiley face.

“Hallelujah. Praise the Lord,” I responded.

“Hahahahah wash that hair,” T texted.

“Yay.”

And that was that. Once it was done it seemed like no big deal. Isn’t that funny how that works!!

I was actually ok with having to do it again. But I’m happy I don’t have to. Time to wash my hair. Wow. Do I even remember how?

By the way, my course launches on Monday. It’s my pilot and it’s really exciting. “Getting Unstuck with Hilary.”

Thanks for listening.

PS And if you know someone who is stuck, it’s not to late for them to jump on board.

PPS It feels really great to have clean hair.

Is AGAIN a Dirty Word?

I have lived in fear that I would commit a terrible sin…..

It’s horrible…

You’ll never believe it…

It’s made me doubt my self-worth….

What could possibly be so bad you ask?

Of hearing these five little words…

“You already told me that.”

That was something I had to avoid at all costs. I don’t know why, but I had all sorts of strategies for making sure it didn’t happen such as saying:

  • If I’ve already told you this please let me know
  • Did I already tell you about………….?
  • I might have told you this already.”

All in the fear of REPEATING MYSELF! Like it was the worst thing in the world.

Tonight I was on an inquiry session where someone was talking about writing. She said that most people never get started which is a shame, because everyone really does have something to say.

“Really?” I asked. “I thought that with the libraries and bookstores so full, that everything has already been said. When I write, I wonder why I am bothering? People already know this.”

“Well,” someone answered, “Even it is has been said, it hasn’t been said NOW in this context at this TIME.”

“Wow,” I said. “I never thought about it before.”

We really had a good laugh at how mean people are when someone is repeating themself.

Why? I am wondering. Who decided that repeating something was a sin deserving abuse, humiliation, and shaming?

I am fascinated by this and added two more words to my ABC’s of Badness after this discussion:

  • AGAIN
  • REPEAT

I love making this list. Today I added some more words as well:

  • Vengeful
  • Bossy
  • Bloated
  • Lethargic
  • Pest

It is really fun. I never really got to enjoy how BAD I really am. Especially when I REPEAT something!!!!

Have a great night!!!!

The ABC’s of Badness

I was on a webinar about moving into 2021. What are we leaving behind in 2020 and what are we taking with us into 2021?

I found myself irritated (for a change, LOL). Everyone was being all wonderful and giving up bad things like drama, anger, and suffering.

“I’m not giving up those things,” I thought. “They are a major part of my life. Who are these people? They are so GOOD. I HATE THEM.”

As the time continued, I got into even more of a funk. (As I said, for a change, LOL). “What is wrong with ME? Why am I always like this? Why can’t I be happy and la-dee-freaking-dah like all of THEM?”

I crossed my arms and enjoyed making everyone else wrong. I’m different. I’m not like them.

Hmmm. What can I take on? How about acceptance. Accepting that I AM THIS WAY. And not like them. And it’s ok? Maybe it’s not wrong? What a concept.

When it was my turn to share, I said, “I’m taking on Acceptance, Abundance and I need another A. Hmmmm……. How about ANGER?” I started laughing. “Yes, anger. I am still mad at my sister and I don’t think I should be. I should be nice and forgive her. But I just don’t want to.”

I continued. “What if I do the ABC’s of being bad? B is for Bitchy, Bad, and Bratty. C is for Catty, Crazy and Cranky……..”

I was having fun and my bad mood was gone. I think I’m onto something.

I decided to continue my inquiry. I have an exercise that I offer as a bonus in my new course, “Getting Unstuck with Hilary.” The bonus module is called “Creating the Real You.” I decided to do it and see if I could create more freedom for myself.

I picked my disempowering thought: “I should be nice and pleasant and wonderful. And I’m not.”

I did the exercise. OH, I think being NOT NICE is just plain WRONG. I SHOULD BE like all these nice people, perky and pleasant and giving up bad things. By making myself wrong for that I get stuck there and I suffer. When I’m not pleasant, patient, or nice, I think I am not ok and I get myself into a funk.

The Alphabet of Badness lets me play with all of this. Instead of making the bad things wrong, I can use them to laugh. There are so many things I call myself that aren’t good. D is for Disempowered, delinquent, dangerous. E is for envious, etc. By listing all of these traits, I can play and laugh and ENJOY BEING BAD. Who said we had to be good all the time? Why did I think that was true? How boring is that?

So in 2021 I am going to accept all of myself – the good, the bad, and the ugly. And have FUN DOING IT!!! Now I’m excited!!!!!

Welcome to a New, More Accepting and Enjoyable Year.

Thanks for listening.

Next Time Don’t Tell Me

“You know, you can get your face fixed for $500,” a to be un-named woman said to me last Sunday.

I just stared at her.

“You probably have so many wrinkles because you like the sun,” she continued.

“They just inject you right here,” and she pointed to her face. “But you would probably need several since yours is so bad.”

I got up from the table and cleaned up the dishes. I didn’t say a word. My mind was spinning. I’ve got to get out of here, I thought.

“I’m leaving,” I said suddenly.

“You just got here,” they said. “why are you leaving?”

“Umm…….I don’t feel well. I have a stomach ache.”

“Why? What from? Stay a while. We can talk.”

“It’s GAS,” was the only thing I could thing of. “It’s better for all of us if I leave.”

That shut them up.

And I left.

I drove home looking in the mirror. My left side definitely has more wrinkles. That must be the side that’s most in the sun. What have I done to myself? I got into my pajamas and got into bed even though it was only 6:30 PM.

Of course I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t shake my agitation of feelings of being an old, ugly, wrinkled loser. She’s right. I ruined my skin in the sun. And since I really don’t want to spend $500 or get injections in my face, I will just stay UGLY for the rest of my life. And get worse as I age. Oh well. Ho hum. Such is the life of an englishmum………………..

I felt bad for the rest of that night, and the next day.

Tuesday I sent her a text.

“Request: the next time you want to tell me my face needs help, please don’t. I am not going to spend the money on treatments, and now I feel very old ugly and wrinkled.”

Her response: “Who this message belongs to?”

“You. I am feeling bad about my face!!!”

“Why?”

“Because I’m looking at my wrinkles that you said I needed to fix.”

“All I said was u can do little help. It’s only $169. And for me you really have a beautiful face.”

“I thought it was $500.”

“Vitamins cost the rest.”

“But it’s not local.”

“I can find out where they do it here. Would you like me to?”

“If it’s easy.”

“Yes. It’s easy. Love you.”

And that was that.

I felt a little better. But I still keep looking at my wrinkles. More than ever.

I think when I am insulted I am so stunned I don’t know what to say. I don’t like to tell people I’m hurt but I sort of did this time.

I’ve got a long ways to go, but at least I’m moving.

Thanks for listening. Happy New Year’s!!!!

Hail, Hail, the Fair Maiden

I couldn’t figure out what to write about this week for my newsletter.

And I didn’t care.

I’m having a minor pity party. I’m disappointed about a few things and I’m going to use this blog to see where that leads me so I can create some freedom. Because that’s what I do.

Here’s where I’m at:

“I’m stupid. I should have known better than to expect something…….” and on and on. Nothing new here.

I’m allowing it, not resisting it, but there’s no freedom yet. And my brain is saying, get over it, lots of people have it worse than me. I’m reading a book about world war 1 where the inhabitants of Reims, where they make champagne, had to live underground for years. I mean, where do I get off feeling sorry for myself. I have a great life, I am looking at the water, drinking my coffee, I worked out, I’m healthy. I have wonderful children,………..

And then I found a deeper cut. IT’S MY FAULT. If I were different, I wouldn’t be disappointed, expecting something else, here alone, not getting presents for the holidays but giving many, ate too much yesterday, feeling fat, ladee dadee dah. IT’S ALL MY FAULT!!! That’s why I am suffering.

If I had done things differently, it wouldn’t be this way. SO IT’S ALL MY FAULT!

(I’m just following where this goes….it’s a new string…..I’m going to let it percolate….be back in a little while)

I’m having trouble going deeper with this. So I’ll tell you what happened even though I WASN’T GOING TO TELL YA’ALL THIS. I DON’T WANT TO OFFEND ANYONE…………..BUT HERE GOES…..

On Christmas Eve I was with my mom and her caretaker. We had a nice time. Quiet but cozy. We watched 4 movies………My son and his dad were not invited. COVID, you know. Sad, but true.

But, the next day I saw on the news that if you had COVID, there was very little chance of you getting it again for 6 months. And my son just had it……..hmmmmmm

So when my son called saying they had a lot of food, my mom and I invited them over. We stayed away from them, they cooked, we played music, danced and sang, and for the first time in a long time, we all experienced joy. I gave out presents, everyone was smiling and laughing and the fun continued. It was the happiest I had felt in a long time………….

[The music shifts to impending danger – the happy people don’t know what is about to befall them].

I get a text from my sister:

“Adam saw Mark and Jesse come into mom’s house without masks.”

I told her about the news and how we decided it was ok. No one has been near anyone and Jesse is safe so we did it.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? YOU TOLD JONATHAN YOU WEREN’T GOING TO DO THIS.”

Well, I don’t remember telling Jonathan anything except that I didn’t like being treated like the ass hole, but nonetheless, the evening turned terrible. She verbally abused me via text, told my mother and I that she couldn’t trust us, and told me that the reason I am treated like the ass hole of the family is because “I don’t do the right thing.”

She called my mother and berated her for a long time. I wouldn’t take the phone because I didn’t want to hear it.

The boys quickly left. I told my mother that I am never coming back. She wins and I’m done. I drove home even though I wasn’t planning to.

Then today, I found out very early in the morning that my plans for the day that I was really looking forward to were cancelled. Via voicemail. I didn’t even get to ask why.

I am now estranged from my family and have no plans for the day.

So what? I tell myself. I brought joy to my mom, trying to inject some fun and love into a not so nice situation, and my plans were changed. What’s the problem?

Here’s the thing: I don’t like being treated like the ass hole. I don’t like being disappointed or misunderstood. I don’t like counting on people and they don’t show up.

Where do I go when this happens?

I go to self blame. Somehow it’s my fault.

If I’m insulted, I blame myself. I run. I avoid the person.

Instead of thinking they are just a nasty, controlling bitch. Or a person with other stuff going on that doesn’t have to do with me.

I’m vaguely remembering that I just distinguished this on my last blog. That people act all sorts of ways and it doesn’t have anything to do with me. They are not responding to me. They are just doing THEIR LIVES.

I don’t think I did anything wrong. Spreading joy and love in a situation where my mother is made wrong for who she is all day long every day is not wrong. It saddens me to see her treated that way. I was trying to have both of them have more enjoyment in their lives. I don’t believe my mother should be treated that way.

My intentions were not only not appreciated, but I was treated like a wrong, evil ass hole. Did I speak up? Nope. I ran. Fuck you I said to my sister in my mind. I will just leave.

Mature? No. Habitual? Yes.

I run when it’s uncomfortable. I’ve been doing it since I was little. I would get picked on at the dinner table and run to my room. I would read and stay there where it was safe.

And I’m still doing it today. I am now in the safety of my own little beach cottage. Away from the ogres and witches in my little fairy tale.

I am FINE ALONE. No one can hurt me here.

I will consider forgiving myself and others at a later time. For now, I am going to enjoy being right about how I am the wronged victim. I am the good one who is seen as the bad one. Well, God knows my intentions were good.

Hail, hail the fair maiden who has to hide from the forces of evil.

Enjoy your Sunday.

Thanks for listening.

PS I will have to cut parts out if I write about this in my newsletter so I don’t offend the guilty parties. We will see. Maybe I will just pick another topic even though this one is GOOD!!!!!!

Disappointment Without the Story

I have seen this week that when I am disappointed, I go into this whole sad story about my life.

If I can literally just be disappointed, I can experience it without resistance, and it can be over in ‘between a few minutes to an hour.’

If I go into the story, it will last a lifetime and I will be right about how the world is.

Would you like an example? I thought so………………………………………………

Oh my. Every example I think of has me saying:

“No, I can’t share that, it’s too embarrassing to admit that I thought the thought that has me embarrassed.”

So it’s deeper than disappointment or embarrassment.

I think I’m stupid for thinking that the thing itself was real or true. Wow. that’s good to see. I am going to get over that right now.

OK, here goes:

  • Today I was excited because I thought I was leading a call. I was mistaken. I’m embarrassed that I thought I was. It was just a wrong assumption I made, but I am mortified that someone will find out that I thought I was when I obviously wasn’t and didn’t. (Who the hell am I to have thought that?)
  • I thought I was visiting a friend at work today and was excited about it, but it turns out, today is not a good day and so I am not (And I could add all sorts of horrible things about how life is and I knew it and I’m stupid for thinking it, etc., but I’m not)
  • I thought I was visiting my mom with my son tonight for Christmas Eve. It’s her wedding anniversary and my dad is no longer alive so I thought it would be a great way to celebrate the night with her. But, it turns out, that my son has not been strict with wearing his mask, so I don’t want to take the small risk of him giving her the COVID germ. Even though he just had COVID and tested negative a couple of weeks ago, it’s not 100% that he can’t have it again.
  • So I have to choose between my mom and my son and I REALLY HATE THAT!!! It’s not as bad as Sophie’s choice, but that’s the way it feels right now. (THIS SHOULDN’T BE THIS WAY. I’m in an argument with reality)
  • People say they love me and I don’t believe them. I think people just say that, but it’s only a matter of time before they will do something that I will take personally and then I’ll be right that I KNEW THEY REALLY DIDN’T. I use evidence like a look, a tone, a comment to PROVE that they CAN’T REALLY LOVE ME so I can be right. (That’s what I am taking apart here – bear with me).

The story I’m trying not to invoke is this:

People lie. They say a lot of bull shit and they don’t mean it. I have to protect myself by never getting my hopes up so I am NEVER DISAPPOINTED because I hate the feeling of disappointment. It means I am right that there is something wrong with me and no one can love me. Any disappointment triggers this and then I get sulky and sarcastic and defensive and pathetic. I am seeing the impact on my life and it’s freaking exhausting.

A new interpretation:

People love me and sometimes there are miscommunications. People sometimes forget what they say. Sometimes things don’t work out. Sometimes people are in bad moods, make a face, and say things.

None of it has anything to do with me.

Wow!! That is very freeing. I think I will take that on.

People love me. I can have what I want. AND, shit happens and it doesn’t mean anything.

This is very cool. Thanks for listening.

PS Today I was interviewed on a public radio show for 7 minutes. It was SO MUCH FUN. I was nervous but I loved it. By December, 2021, I am creating that I have my own show. People tell their stories, get their greatness and create lives they love, and inspire millions who also get empowered to create live THEY LOVE. Wouldn’t that be fun?

Is He Calling To Congratulate Me?

I was ready to log onto a work call where they were going to announce the winners of a contest.

I knew that I had won. I had 1000 points, several hundred points more than anyone else. I had never won a contest before and I was thrilled. I had worked my ass off. I had made 900 calls and booked 26 appointments. I had never done this much work in my 13 years with my company. And I was excited to win the $600, too. I felt like a hero.

My phone rang. It was our market director. Maybe he was calling to congratulate me?

“Hi, Mike. I’m just getting on the web ex call.”

“Um. Yeah, um, Hilary, I just wanted to let you know that Headquarters said that you are not eligible to win this contest. District sales managers were not in the original contest that was submitted and they did not approve our request to have you win. You can have the t- shirt, but not the money. I will have to submit something in next year’s budget in order to be able to pay you any money. It won’t be until next quarter if it gets approved.”

It was hard to talk with the knife in my gut.

“Umm, ok, well, I’m glad you told me ahead of time. That would have been hard to hear on the webex,” I said, barely getting the words out over the lump in my throat.

“OK,” and he hung up.

The tears sprang loose. I clicked the link to the webex but stayed out of the camera eye. I made sure my camera and sound were off. I couldn’t breathe.

I heard them saying how great I did. Ladee dadee dah. And then they announced the winners, the people who had trailed behind me the whole contest. They were the winners, not me. I cried silently, wondering how this had happened.

“We’d like Hilary, Sally and John to say something,” I heard them saying.

SHIT. I started typing a text. “I can’t talk. I am too upset.” I heard the other two speaking.

I composed myself and hit the unmute button. I don’t remember what I said but I tried to stay positive.

The webex ended.

I knew I was in an incident. I felt betrayed. How could I ever trust anyone again? How could this happen? The whole time my numbers were on the spreadsheet. They said that managers were approved to compete. How could they do this TO ME?

I wanted to badmouth the company, my managers, anyone.

But I didn’t. I took the high road. I said I was disappointed, that’s all. And I was.

I tried not to go into my usual story – it’s my fault for being so stupid, for believing them.

But you know what? It’s not and I’m not. I’m proud of myself for not going there for the first time in my life. No need. I had declared I was a Bold Leader and this is what it looks like.

The truth is, that if I had known I wasn’t eligible, I wouldn’t have done so much work, booked so many appointments, and gotten my business going again. And set an example for everyone.

So it’s not all bad.

And, I worked extra hard today and booked 5 new appointments. Just because.

I can make that $600 another way. Try and stop me.

I’m proud of myself for acting so mature. I’m not used to it.

Thanks for listening.

PS My neighbor has a karaoke machine. It’s loud and he really can’t sing. This is not good.

Who Really Said It?

Once again, I saw that I was making someone wrong. I will call this person Molly.

Everything started out fine. We were supposed to lead a call together, and I thought we did. So when she called me the next day and told me how upset she was, I was surprised. She said I was being a bossy bitch, had taken over the call, and she didn’t like it. That’s why she didn’t say anything on the call.

I pretended I was ok with it. We talked, laughed and hung up the phone.

I really liked Molly before this incident. She is real, generous, kind and a great person.

Not any more, I thought. I don’t need anybody that’s going to insult me like that.

This lack of affinity went on for a couple of weeks. Molly got another chance to lead the call (without me) and I noticed I was making her wrong and not participating in the discussion she was leading.

Enough, I thought. I need to get into communication. I did it by email.

“I pretended I was ok with our discussion, but I just have to tell you I was hurt when you called me a bossy bitch. Telling someone I am hurt is not easy for me,” I typed, “but I am telling you anyway.”

Her response was surprising.

“Well, I can assure you that’s not what I said. I do not use the word bitch. I might have said I didn’t like that I felt you were being bossy, but I would never say bossy bitch.”

“Seriously? OMG!”

I realized what happened. She said she didn’t like being bossed around like when she was a child, I was surprised and immediately felt stupid. To cover up my hurt and surprise at her upset, I made a joke and blamed myself. I SAID “I guess I was being a bossy bitch. I guess I get that way sometimes. Gee, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the impact on you. I’m really sorry.”

I pretended I was fine with the conversation. Obviously, I wasn’t. The funny thing is that I held “bossy bitch” against her like SHE said it. And I really thought she had. That was the truth in my mind.

That is really scary. Where else do I ADD WORDS MYSELF and then get mad at the other person when they never SAID IT?

I know of many instances where I’ve added MEANING to what they’ve said, but I never realized that I added WORDS too. That was amazing to learn.

I can see how wars and divorces get started. By misunderstandings about stuff that never was said or never happened.

That’s why I have been taking on the practice of “checking it out.” Just today I checked out something:

“When you said ‘you’re not acting crazy today,” did you mean that I normally do?”

“No, I meant that you weren’t acting crazy just now.”

“But sometimes I do? Do you think I’m crazy?” I asked, needing to find out.

“No. You are fine. I’m sorry I said it that way. You are perfectly normal. Not crazy at all.”

Ok, phew. I had been triggered by the crazy comment. I kept asking what the person meant until I could see that I was adding “I’m crazy, there’s something wrong with me, and no one can love me” to what they said.

As needy and pathetic as that used to make me feel, I now do it FOR ME. So I can be calm and get clear what the person REALLY MEANT instead of my disempowering context and story I add to everything.

I do it FOR ME. So I can feel ok. Maybe one day I won’t have to, for now, it works. And I’m ok with that. It’s a practice I’ve taken on to create freedom for me.

Thanks for listening.

What A Difference A Week Makes

I am truly blessed to let you know that I am in a totally different place this week than last.

My COVID test was negative. I cried when they called me out of relief. I got to see how tense I had been even though I was pretending to be fine. Phew! I could breathe again and the pain in my back disappeared.

I was still concerned about my son. He tested positive a second time, 8 days after his first. But the amazing part was, his worst symptom was boredom. He felt fine and just wanted to get out of his house. I was so happy to hear that. After the first couple of days of headache and fatigue, he really didn’t have anything bad. A mild cough and that was it. Hallelujah. Praise the Lord. And anything else there is to say. Again, the stress has left the building.

In my seminar about the brain, called the Invented Life, I shared about the episode I had right after Jesse told me he was positive:

“Jesse was going to die, I was going to die, and his father was going to die. We were all going to die,” I shared in a loud, boisterous voice. “All of us. And there was nothing I could do about it.” I was waving my hands like a lunatic.

“Thank you for demonstrating a perfect amygdala hijack,” my instructor said. “That was perfect.”

“You mean because I was completely gone?” I asked.

“Yes. Your brain patterns had taken you over. You weren’t there. Your brain had been hijacked.”

We all had a good laugh. I could see that my future had been predicted by my brain patterns. And that future was even worse than bleak. The sad part is that it had seemed to be really happening until I could distinguish that it was just thoughts. The only actual fact was that Jesse had tested positive. The rest was just brain patterns weaving a panic inducing freak out.

The wonderful thing is that none of that prediction happened. I even forgot about the whole thing. Today my 14 day quarantine is over and my son is itching to also get back to the world.

It is really great.

I hope I can remember the next time my amygdala gets hijacked that next week will look completely different. It is not a fixed way that the world will occur. Things are always changing. If I don’t like things one hour, the next it will be different.

The only constant we have is change. And I don’t always have to like it. But today I do.

Thanks for listening