3 Popular Myths Around Having and Healing Anxiety

“Never fear shadows. They simply mean there’s a light shining somewhere nearby.” ~Ruth E. Renkel

Before I started healing my anxiety, I thought there was something seriously wrong with me. Every panic attack, every morning filled with dread, every social event that I would mentally prepare myself for made me feel like I had some inner deficiency that no one else had.

I used to work as a cashier at a grocery store and would avoid hanging out with people twenty-four hours before my shift. Yep. That means if I worked on Saturday morning, I wouldn’t hang out with anyone from Friday afternoon to the evening.

Why? Because I had to “prepare” myself for my entry-level position at the grocery store. I had to “make sure I felt okay,” as if the whole world was watching to see if I didn’t smile for an hour.

I was extremely critical of myself and felt that if I wasn’t drenched in positivity, I was useless to the world. And that if I wasn’t exuding confidence every moment of my life, people would think I wasn’t good enough.

When I started on my journey to healing my anxiety, I uncovered a few life events that had had a major effect on my inner world. One of them occurred during a dance competition that I was a part of at a young age. I was maybe ten years old when I was a part of a Bhangra group, which is a style of folk dance that originated in Punjab, India.

Bhangra is a highly energized style of dance, and when you watch a performance, you’ll see that the dancers are smiling really wide and having the time of their lives. This is an important part of the performance, as you’re meant to bring this high energy to the stage so that the audience has a good time.

At one of my dance competitions, my group had just finished performing, and the judges were ready to say their piece. All of the judges had great things to say, except for one that decided to point out a flaw in my personal part of the performance. He said, “Everyone did such an amazing job and were smiling so big and having fun, but you” (points to me, younger Raman) “didn’t seem to be smiling so wide. Why was that?”

As a ten-year-old, my heart dropped as every eyeball in that auditorium looked straight at me. I can’t quite remember what I responded with, but if I’m being honest, I don’t think I said much. I tried to keep it “chill.” I’m pretty sure I just shrugged and said, “I don’t know” while my soul exited my body out of embarrassment, and then eventually walked off the stage with my dance group.

We were young, and we were just having fun with this dance competition. We weren’t trying to win a national championship, and we weren’t even trying that hard to impress the judges. Even though we did end up winning a prize, the critique from that one judge ended up dampening my spirits.

Being singled out from the rest of the group really had an impact on me. Though our mind doesn’t understand why we might experience certain anxieties and fears as we get older, the child that experienced that pain still lives within us.

And the judge from a dance competition becomes an inner judge that critiques us before a work shift as a cashier. “Smile bigger!!!” he says.

It’s both the small moments and big moments of pain that stick around with us. And as much as our adult mind can dismiss the experience by thinking, “Oh, it was just one thing someone said, that’s not a big deal,” to that little kid, it is. It’s a really big deal!

And that leads me to the first myth we have about anxiety: that there’s something wrong with us.

If you have experienced any form of anxiety, there’s nothing wrong with you. Actually, your internal system is working exactly as it was designed! To avoid a possible future “threat” (in this case, the embarrassment from the judge in my story), we create an inner judge to “fix” what was wrong (in this case, not smiling big enough at the dance performance), which will hopefully avoid having someone critique us from the outside (at work).

It’s a weird way that our inner world works, but it’s doing its job. Because the truth is, yes, if you spend twenty-four hours before a work shift to mentally prepare yourself for smiling big at work, then you’ll most likely smile big at work and no one will critique you for being a downer.

Now, when it starts to get really difficult is when you stop having the energy to perform for the world. It becomes extra challenging when your inner critic makes you feel like you’re not enough. It’s usually around this time that people start looking for some help, because even though their inner world is doing its job, it becomes exhausting to keep up with it.

Which leads me to the second myth around having anxiety: that if you have anxiety, you’ll have it forever.

A lot of people believe that if someone gives you a label, that label has to last forever. Not me, though. For example, when my doctor told me I had moderate generalized anxiety disorder, I decided that it wasn’t going to be like that for the rest of my life and that I would do what I needed to do to heal the anxiety.

Anxiety isn’t something you need to “cope” with. I recently suggested a tool to a client, a young woman, and she said, “Oh, yay another coping mechanism!” As excited as she was to try something new, I had to be authentic and let her know that her anxiety wasn’t something she merely had to cope with; it was something that could be transformed.

The first step to transforming your anxiety is getting aware of what your dominant thoughts are. Oftentimes, it’s the hypercritical thoughts that are causing the anxiety. When we can become aware of these thoughts, we can then ask where they originated from.

Just like how I have an origin story for my anxiety, you do too! Oftentimes, there’s more than one origin story—a culmination of origin stories—but it helps to start with one.

The more open you are to healing through your story, and the more willing you are to transform, the more you’ll shift. Your anxiety doesn’t have to be in the driver’s seat of your life forever. It’s even allowed to be a passenger.

And that leads us to the third and final myth around anxiety: that to heal, you must be completely anxiety-free and completely at peace at all times.

The truth is, in my six years of healing, anxiety has popped its head up from time to time. The first time I offered workshops, I was a nervous wreck for weeks.

I’ll still feel anxious if I’m trying something new, but the way I respond is different.

When we start to heal, it creates a strength within us that allows us to show up differently in our life. Even though I felt really nervous to put myself out there in my career, I had the inner strength to go for it! That’s because anxiety was no longer steering the vehicle of my life.

It became a welcome passenger.

The truth is, if anxiety comes from that inner kid and her experiences, then I don’t want to kick her out of the car. That little girl deserves a safe space in my life.

When anxiety pops her head up, I say hello. I journal from her voice, I talk to her, and I let her know it’s going to be okay.

I remind her that I’m the opposite of that judge from that day, and that I will be the one to uplift and empower her. That she is welcome on my journey to show up whenever she wants to. And that I’d love to have her join me for the ride.

I’m here to show her all of the magic that’s inside of her. And I’m here to remind her of her gifts and talents—the ones that no one can take away from her. She is a welcome passenger, and I will be driving the car to our greatest good.

My experience with anxiety and the healing that came along with it has taught me to be kinder to myself, to see the human behind their mask, and to be a walking example of inner peace.

Perhaps the more difficult moments of our life are also the ones that shape us into more of who we’re meant to become.

*Image generated by AI

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About Raman Hari

Raman Hari works as an intuitive coach, which is a modality of life coaching that focuses on the interconnection between the mind, body, and spirit. She has reached over 1 million people through her inspiring social media content, and has been coaching clients through workshops and 1:1 sessions centered around healing anxiety and stress, creating a baseline of inner peace, and living a purpose-driven life. You can check out Raman’s Ultimate Guide to Shift Anxiety and Stress here.

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Transforming Pain into Power: The Magic of Emotional Alchemy

If it weren’t for my darkest moments, I wouldn’t appreciate the life I have today. I’ve overcome a lot, and my biggest battle wasn’t the hurdles themselves but how they made me feel, draining my energy and desire for life until I nearly lost it completely. I’m sharing my story to give you hope. If I can transform pain into beauty through emotional alchemy, you can, too.

I’m not going to lie and say my journey has been easy. Nor is it over; overcoming a lifetime of dysfunctional patterns from a toxic childhood and challenging adult experiences takes time. However, it is so very worth it. Here’s how I perform emotional alchemy, and you can, too.

My “Shawshank” Moment

Although I didn’t always recognize how childhood trauma led to my adult victimization, I now see how it created the conditions. My inner child wasn’t only wounded; I, in many ways, was still a child.

I grew up in a household where anger was the primary emotion, and that seed remained within me. When an adult tragedy struck, I watered it, first directing it at a world I felt was impossibly cruel and finally against myself.

The seed sprouted when I became chronically ill with disabling symptoms that gradually robbed my ability to work a traditional job. I lost everything, including my home.

Because I had never learned how to relate to others, I didn’t know where to turn for help and was convinced that I would be ridiculed for asking. Having never learned how to set appropriate boundaries as a child, I pushed away the few people who tried to lend a hand, suspecting ulterior motives.

Accepting assistance was burdening another, something strong, capable, worthy people didn’t do, and the people who offered aid had something up their sleeves.

Homeless and feeling utterly powerless, I had no idea how to go on.

Getting Busy Living

Anger was useful in my recovery. It took well over a decade to find a diagnosis—an underlying heart defect.

I now know that my emotional outbursts at the doctor’s corresponded to one of my biggest complex post-traumatic stress disorder (c-PTSD) triggers. As a child, I was constantly invalidated and dismissed, including when I had health issues.

Any time I got sick, I was told it was a “cry for attention” and an attempt to “manipulate” my parents into caring for me. Experiencing similar suspicion again led to irritation and many tears that no doubt confirmed my provider’s impression of me as “hysterical.”

My anger drove me to prove I was not causing my symptoms, exacerbating them, or making them up. But how? I went utterly straight-edge, taking up a super-healthy, nearly monastic lifestyle of whole foods intended to nurture physical and mental health, regular physical activity and all the brain-and-soul healing holistic therapies I could find online.

Little did I know I was laying the foundation of my recovery. Although people tend to think linearly, as though one thing leads to another like a straight line, existence is more like a circular mandala with interwoven threads creating the tapestry and holding that giant parachute together. When one thread wears thin, the others pick up the slack during repairs. My work on my physical body began to heal my mind. But how?

1. Diet and Mental State

My diet today still consists of primarily plant-based foods close to their natural forms. I also take care to increase my intake of certain nutrients necessary for brain health through the meals I choose, such as:

• B-vitamins for neurotransmitter production.
• Omega-3s to prevent brain disorders and improve mood.
• Magnesium, selenium, and zinc for improved mood and nervous system regulation.

I also eliminated anything that could adversely affect my mood. That meant cutting out:

• Foods with artificial colors, flavors, and preservatives.
• Added sugar.
• Processed, bleached flour.
• Unhealthy oils.

It’s tougher to eat this way on a budget. I stocked up on dried fruits, nuts, and seeds that last; inexpensive tuna; and fresh, organic produce from the farmer’s market.

2. Movement and the Full Nervous System

While most of your neurons are in your brain, you have them all over your body. Emotional trauma can get trapped in your somatic system, but nurturing practices like Yin and restorative yoga can release it.

I find it’s best to get my heart pumping to burn off some of those excess stress hormones like cortisol before I can dig into deeper release on the mat. Find movement that soothes you, which can include pumping you up to blow off steam.

My yoga mat has become a true home for me. It’s where I go to sit, or passively stretch, with my emotions when they overwhelm me. If you have c-PTSD, you know that your triggers don’t disappear — you train yourself to notice them and react to them less so that they don’t control you. Sometimes, that means creating a necessary pause before responding, and my yoga mat is my place to do that.

3. Mindfulness

Mindfulness is the true key to transforming pain into power through emotional alchemy. I’m convinced it’s the one tool that can help with the epidemic of narcissism American society faces—and I speak as someone who learned such traits from the dubious “best.” People with such personalities have defenses so sky-high that they react to even the most well-intended advice with distrust.

However, mindfulness creates space for deep truths to bubble up from inside. You aren’t being “lectured” by someone else who threatens your sense of self and the worldview that protects you. Simply focusing on your inhales and exhales provides a sense of separation and objectiveness that lets you realize two critical truths:

• You are not your thoughts.
• You are not your feelings.

You have thoughts and feelings, but you also have the you that’s sitting with them on the mat, deciding how to best manage them. Recognizing that you have power and choice over how you direct your energy teaches you that if you want anger or distrust to grow, you water those seeds through your actions and decisions.

The beautiful part? You also realize if you want to nurture love, hope, health, camaraderie, faith, optimism, joy, and happiness, then you water those seeds.

One small act of goodness can start a ripple effect. Think of it like the frayed strands of a worn tapestry weaving themselves back together, one string at a time. It starts with self-love.

I didn’t fully realize when I began my journey that I was essentially reparenting myself from scratch, but that’s what I was doing. My higher self was acting like a good mother, ensuring I had healthy foods, the right amount of exercise and sunlight, and plenty of nurturing.

Creating Emotional Alchemy

Mindfulness also helped me manage the overwhelming anxiety I felt without my usual coping mechanisms to handle stress. Anyone who has experienced morning-after hangxiety knows that withdrawal from alcohol ramps up this emotion, and my life stressors hadn’t magically disappeared. I was still battling housing insecurity, trying to earn enough money to keep a roof over my head while managing necessary medical appointments and the associated travel time.

However, I couldn’t have transformed my pain into power through emotional alchemy without identifying my feelings and learning how to manage them in healthy ways. For that, I dug into everything I could learn about human psychology. I engaged in therapy whenever possible. Although there was limited help available, I briefly found someone who listened to me rehash my childhood without judgment.

Mostly, though, I self-directed my treatment, making use of the resources I had available. I engaged in the following practices, often more than once per day, to slowly heal my central nervous system. These activities decreased my emotional reactivity and helped me make wiser choices based on mindful contemplation instead of a panicked need to do something, anything:

• Yoga: Not all styles require high energy or physical fitness, and many poses have modifications for differing skill and mobility levels. Try Hatha, Yin, or restorative if you’re new.
• Meditation: While there are many styles, I find that guided meditations are best for beginners. They acclimate you to sitting quietly with your thoughts while providing just enough direction to prevent falling into a rumination trap or taking a dark trip down anxiety lane.
• Nature walks: Oodles of studies show nature’s healing power on your body and mind. Hike, or better yet, go camping. It’s free or close to it.
• Grounding: Grounding or earthing puts your skin in contact with the earth’s natural magnetic field. While it sounds new age, it works.
• Nutrition: Although I give myself more dietary leeway today, my meals are still primarily plant-based. I continue to avoid unhealthy substances, including alcohol, knowing what it does to my neurotransmitters.
• Learning: Educational materials and online support groups are invaluable resources.

I’m not a celebrity and certainly not among the elite. However, my message of hope is that you don’t necessarily need an expensive retreat or in-patient care to transform pain into power through emotional alchemy.

Use what you have. YouTube is a fabulous resource of free nutrition and exercise videos, and the internet abounds with information. It’s a matter of feeding yourself the right input instead of getting sucked into social media. Seek websites and channels by credentialed individuals to ensure the information you receive is accurate and helpful.

Emotional Alchemy: Transforming Pain into a Beautiful Life

Today, my life continues to improve. Working on myself made it much easier to get the other pieces of my life under control.

It might take reparenting yourself if you have severe c-PTSD. You might have to actively decide to stop doing the things that hurt your mind, body, and emotions and start nurturing yourself like you would a child. However, over time, you can create emotional alchemy and transform your pain into power, sharing what you have learned in your journey to bring hope to others.

*Image generated by AI

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About Beth Rush

Beth is the mental health editor at Body+Mind. She has five-plus years of experience writing about behavioral health, specifically mindfulness-based cognitive therapy. Beth also writes about the power of human design to reveal our full potential and purpose. You can find her on Twitter @bodymindmag. Subscribe to Body+Mind for more posts by Beth Rush.

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5 Big Lessons I Learned After Losing a Legacy Friend

“You can’t force anyone to value, respect, understand, or support you, but you can choose to spend your time around people who do.” ~Lori Deschene

There’s a term in IT called “legacy systems.” These are computer systems that are ancient and abysmally outdated yet are kept around because organizations have centered some of their operations around them.

The exercise to replace a legacy system is challenging and possibly even painful because of the interwoven network of dependencies placed on these systems—but it’s not impossible.

The benefits of replacing a legacy system with one that is aligned with the current operational standards of an organization far outweigh the burden of doing so. More importantly, though, keeping a legacy system may prove to be a more costly undertaking, perhaps even jeopardizing the survival of the organization.

Are you rapidly blinking while wondering if you somehow clicked on the wrong article and that perhaps it’s time for you to finally address your poor sleep routine because you seem to be getting an IT 101 lesson in what should be a wellness article?

Well, apart from being a tech enthusiast who will use any excuse to educate anyone I can on anything IT-related, it was also a good way to introduce a term I recently experienced in an especially gobsmacked manner: legacy friends.

These are people who remain in your life because, at one point, you befriended them and the friendship persisted.

The only reason that you’re friends now is because you’ve been friends for some period of time, and the yieldless relationship persisted unquestioned while you somewhat silently evolved over the years. Or, in my case, unquestioned until the realities of life forced me to pause and ponder upon the emptiness of one such friendship.

A few months ago, I decided to let my adventurous spirit lead the way as I moved to a new country after seven long years of living in the same city. I desperately needed some change, and pretending to be engrossed in patio furniture while a former romantic partner sauntered down the aisle with his mother was not something I found appealing.

At first, the move was invigorating, inspiring, and all kinds of wonderful. The anonymity of a new place where I didn’t need to feign interest in furniture of any kind was just splendid, but the novelty of everything quickly diminished.

I experienced the deep difficulty of abruptly losing my entire support system and faced unfamiliar natural elements that spawned symptoms associated with seasonal affective disorder.

My spark dimmed as I felt lost and alone in a foreign land. A new job in an unfamiliar and taxing work environment and part-time postgraduate studies only added to the increasingly dark cloud of confusion and misery I felt plagued by. The administration around being an immigrant felt never ending, as I struggled to keep up with everything my new life demanded of me.

It’s not hard to imagine the delight I felt in finding out that a friend from college would be in my new city for an evening and wanted to have dinner with me. For a second it felt like the dark cloud had lifted if only for a moment, and there was an unmistakable feeling of relief at the thought of seeing a familiar face.

That sense of ease was short-lived, as I soon found out that he had also invited his friend to dinner. I felt a little confused by this, as he had made it seem as though it would just be the two of us at the beginning. But feeling overridden by the thought of seeing a longtime friend, I compromised and committed to dinner.

Weeks passed by and I plowed on, barely surviving, submitting agonizing assignments and enduring circuitous workplace conversations that left me quickly losing my sense of confidence despite having had almost a decade worth of experience.

A week before the dinner, I was informed that it was now a dinner party for as many people who were available to attend, and that it started thirty minutes after the time I would officially finish work.

I was stunned. I’d been working overtime for months on end—with every spare minute spent hunched over textbooks that were apparently written in the English language but were all sorts of Greek to me—and I was now suddenly expected to show up on time, dressed appropriately, and cheerfully mingle with strangers I had never met before while running on barely any sleep.

Knowing how busy things had been at work, I gave my friend a heads up that my work demands may prevent me from making it to dinner and that, if I did show up, it would be a bit later. His response was something along the lines of “Show up on time or don’t bother showing up at all.”

Again, I was stunned. I’d prided myself on cultivating respectful, mature relationships and was rendered speechless by his response.

My other friends were kind and compassionate and consistently demonstrated their unwavering support for me doing what I needed to do in order to be the best version of myself. So his response was shocking to say the least.

The bewilderment soon gave way to some serious contemplation as I struggled to understand how someone in my life could administer such a senseless ultimatum.

The more time I spent inspecting the details of our friendship, the clearer things became. The truth of the matter was that we were not actually friends. Well, at least not by the definition of a friend that I had come to know over the past few years.

To me, a friend is someone who patiently yet firmly prompts you to finally talk about your broken heart and the dysfunctional relationship you clearly needed to remove yourself from.

It’s someone who is so ecstatic about your final term results that they excitedly lift you into the air with a bear-like hug while you temporarily forget your mild but very real fear of having your feet off the ground.

It’s someone who will listen to your wails of discomfort in the wee hours of a Sunday morning as you attempt to put up much needed boundaries with your family.

It’s someone who offers you a sympathetic shoulder to cry on instead of saying, “I told you so” when the deliciously tattooed guy does exactly what they predicted he’d do.

It’s someone who constantly encourages you to silence your inner over-achiever by continuously telling you that a 50% pass is a fantastic outcome for someone juggling as many things as you are.

It’s someone who will gladly spend their time letting you interview them for a needs assessment survey while you try to desperately (and very foolishly) finish a two-week assignment in two days.

It is not someone who has known about your challenges in acclimating to a new continent yet stayed silent about it.

It is not someone who failed to display any empathy or concern when you mentioned that you were sick yet again.

It is not someone who offered absolutely no support in helping you navigate an academic degree that they had already completed.

It is not someone who complained that the three-minute voice note you sent was too long for them to listen to.

It is not someone who criticizes how you choose to embrace your heritage and culture.

It is not someone who barely expressed any gratitude for the time and energy you sacrificed in helping them realize their career ambitions.

It is not someone who childishly refuses to reply to your messages all because you missed a dinner, planned with no consideration to your dietary restrictions or time constraints, that made you feel like an afterthought.

This person is not a friend by my current standards. They would be what is deemed a legacy friend—someone who had remained in my life simply because they’d been there for some time.

This conclusion was jarring, but I guess all harsh truths are. The nice thing about the truth is that it really does set you free. With this newfound knowledge, I liberated myself from the hold of this unnecessary relationship and re-framed the experience as an opportunity for self-awareness to outline what I need from friendships in my life.

Here are five lessons I learned from the loss of a legacy friend.

1. I am wholly uninterested in superficial conversations and activities that do not enrich my life or society at large in any way.

2. It’s a messy endeavor to attempt to have people in your life with values that are misaligned with yours.

3. It’s perfectly fine for you to choose your peace and well-being over people who have taken far more than they’ve given.

4. As tough as it is to accept, it’s impractical to have people in your life who are stuck in a lifestyle that you outgrew long ago.

5. There is no way to explain away disrespect, and every single human on this earth, regardless of creed or color, deserves unconditional respect.

I of course feel saddened by the loss of someone I thought to be a friend, but a consoling outlook is that I’m now making space in my life for people who more closely meet my needs.

As with legacy systems, removing a legacy friend may be an uncomfortable and even painful undertaking, but the allure of a more enriched life should be a worthwhile incentive to at least consider it.

Having felt the fierce love of my found family for many years, I believe with all my heart that the goodness you embody will be a signal to like-minded souls, so do not settle for anything less than what you deserve.

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Cam is an avid writer who has always been enthused by all types of literature. Her blog, Oh My Word, is a whimsical collection of satirical, creative and sometimes profoundly helpful musings about life and well-being.

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How One Small Good Habit Can Create Big Change in Your Life

“Small habits don’t add up, they compound. You don’t need to be twice as good to get twice the results. You just need to be slightly better.” ~James Clear

Life can often feel overwhelming, especially when we aspire to achieve significant goals or make substantial changes. However, the secret to lasting transformation might be simpler than you think. It lies in the power of a single, small habit. This article explores the life-changing impact of implementing just one positive habit into your life and maintaining consistency with it.

Embrace the Power of One

Adopting several good habits at once can be daunting and can lead to burnout or loss of motivation. Instead, consider starting with just one small, manageable good habit.

For instance, some people have found walking to be a gateway to a healthier lifestyle. This simple exercise can gradually progress into more intensive workouts like running, which, in turn, can inspire healthier eating habits. It’s all about taking that first step and sticking with it.

This One Exercise Changed My Life

My personal journey toward a healthier life began at the age of fourteen. I was extremely skinny, frequently getting ill, and often teased about my appearance by my classmates. I hated my skinny arms and my weakness. Desperate to build muscle and boost my immunity, I decided to commit to a seemingly small habit—performing thirty push-ups a day for a week.

On the first day, I completed thirty reps of push-ups (not in a row) with improper form. The next day, my body was sore, but I persevered and told myself, “Only seven days left, and after this challenge, I won’t need to continue doing push-ups.” This self-talk somehow kept me going.

Around day four or five, I surpassed the initial challenge of thirty reps and increased it to fifty. On day seven, I finally completed my push-up challenge. I no longer needed to do push-ups, but I felt motivated to continue for more than a week.

The Ripple Effect of One Good Habit

I didn’t limit my workouts to only doing push-ups; after thirty days of my push-up challenge, I bought “Billy’s Bootcamp by Billy Blank” on Amazon. (It was a popular exercise DVD for stay-at-home moms in Japan, yet it was super tough for an unfit teenager like me.) Later, I added weights to my workout routine.

Because of my push-ups, I realized the importance of exercise and how it makes me feel good. So after that challenge, I started learning about nutrition, prioritizing healthy eating, and of course, adding regular workouts to my day-to-day life.

The Influence of Small Good Habits That Transform Other Aspects of Life

A small good habit doesn’t limit itself to just one aspect of life; any positive habit you start can expand to other areas.

What happened in my life after the push-up challenge?

I watched a fitness video on YouTube posted by a Japanese fitness influencer who was in the US and spoke English fluently. It hit me so hard. At the age of nineteen, as a Japanese guy who had never spoken a second language before, it was extremely inspiring for me to decide to learn English.

Just before turning twenty, I enrolled in an English language school in Fiji (because it was affordable). Half a year later, I started traveling around Australia, Southeast Asia, and Europe, ultimately traveling for more than three years. During my travels, I encountered many intelligent people who inspired me to delve into self-development and practice mindfulness.

One day, I stumbled upon a YouTube video posted by a British influencer. In that video, he emphasized the importance of reading. Despite never having a reading habit or barely reading books before, I wanted to improve myself and gain knowledge. This led me to pick up a book and start reading.

Even though the beginning is small, one good habit can create momentum that shifts one’s life completely.

The Domino Effect of Personal Growth

Starting with push-ups improved my health and led me to a fitness video, which, in turn, inspired me to learn English. The ability to speak English allowed me to travel overseas, providing opportunities to meet intelligent people who completely changed my mindset toward personal development. Watching self-improvement videos ultimately led me to gain knowledge through reading good books.

The Momentum of Consistency

It’s crucial to understand that noticeable results don’t happen overnight. It’s consistent effort over time that builds momentum and leads to significant change. Each day’s improvement may seem small and inconspicuous, but when you reflect over the years, you’ll notice how much your life has improved and how far you’ve come.

Consider the famous question: “Would you choose to get three million dollars right now or choose one penny that doubles for the next thirty days?”

Let’s say you choose the one penny, and your friend chooses three million dollars. After seven days, your one penny is still less than a dollar, and your friend might think you made a stupid decision. By day twenty, your penny becomes over $5,200 but still far behind three million dollars, and your friend is relaxed, not even worried about being surpassed by your progress.

Then, a miracle happens on day twenty-eight – your penny reaches over one million dollars, and your friend is confused about what just happened. On day thirty, your penny becomes $5,368,709—over five million dollars! You win!

This is what overnight success looks like. You may not notice a big difference, but one day, consistent work starts to make a significant impact.

The 1% Rule for Lasting Change

Just like the compounding penny, making small, 1% changes in your daily habits can have a profound impact over time. It’s akin to a plane traveling from Los Angeles to New York. If the plane’s trajectory is off by just 1%, it could end up in Albany or Dover instead.

The Importance of Persisting

Momentum is much like riding a bicycle—it needs consistent effort to maintain it. The moment you stop pedaling, the bicycle loses speed and eventually falls. Likewise, without consistency, the momentum of your positive habits dissipates.

Keep Going, Keep Growing

It’s easy to become complacent once you achieve your initial goals. However, the moment you decide you’re “good enough” and stop improving is the moment you lose your momentum.

Remember, there’s no endpoint in personal growth. The key is to keep going, keep growing, and maintain the momentum you’ve worked hard to build.

The Power of One Good Habit: A Recap

In summary, adopting one small positive habit and remaining consistent with it can significantly transform your life. This habit can create a ripple effect that can impact various aspects of your life, leading to personal growth and self-improvement.

As the ancient Chinese proverb goes, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” So, what small habit will you start today?

Your Next Steps

Take a moment to reflect on a small good habit that you can incorporate into your life. Remember, the focus is not on immediate results but on the consistency and persistence you put into this habit. As time goes on, you’ll start to notice the dramatic transformation this one small habit will bring to your life.

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About Ryoga Takedoi

Ryoga is a Japanese-born blogger, adventurer, and calisthenics athlete. He shares his insight on self-development from his experience and journey at Studio Milestone to help others unlock their full potential, overcome addiction, and achieve personal goals.

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How Our Emotional Triggers Can Actually Be Great Gifts

“Be grateful for triggers, they point to where you are not free.” ~Unknown

Your triggers are your responsibility. I know, it doesn’t land so nicely, does it? But it’s the truth. The moment you truly understand this, you let others off the hook and you’re able to actually see triggers as gifts pointing to where you’re not whole.

I’ve heard this many times before and felt like retorting with, “But, he/she/they did….” Just because your triggers are your responsibility doesn’t mean that others won’t do hurtful or infuriating things. It just means the only thing you can control is your side of the street. EVER. That’s it.

Recently, I was out of town and my husband stayed home with our two younger children. I was at my oldest daughter’s softball game when he texted pictures of sushi and asked me to guess where they were. I could tell right away. It was a restaurant near our old house that we used to go often that had shut down during the pandemic.

I found myself so triggered by the mere memory of it that I responded with, “I remember THAT place quite well.”

That’s the place we ran into someone my husband knew. Someone I would eventually dislike, maybe even momentarily hate. Someone who years after this innocent run-in would, along with my husband, participate in causing me great hurt.

It stung, the blindness of it all, the complete disregard for my feelings just as if it had happened yesterday and not close to a decade ago. Interesting how this was the image in my mind’s eye and not the dozens of other times we enjoyed sushi as a family.

My husband then proceeded to tell me they had reopened and the kids were enjoying themselves. Well, here I was, triggered, feeling this anger rising from my gut and moving into my heart, and they were stuffing their faces with sushi. How nice. I wondered if he even knew, if he had picked up on that sly remark. Did he even remember? Could he sense the change of energy from afar?

Normally, when I’m triggered, I will lash out, say something snarky, and maybe say or do something that would only lead to a fight. He would absolutely know I was triggered, and I would graciously remind him it was hisfault.

This time, I walked myself off the ledge, reminded myself that my trigger is my responsibility, took a breath, and made a mental note to dig in at a later time. For the time being I would sit and watch softball and shove this firecracker of a trigger to the side. It seems silly that a sushi restaurant could trigger so much underlying anger, but let me tell you, it did.

The following day I took the four-hour drive home. I had two teenagers in the car with ear pods in their ears and their faces glued to their phones. This was the perfect time to dig in, as there was nothing but road ahead of me and time to kill.

I started a mental conversation with myself about this trigger, the same process I would undertake with a client in this same predicament. What about this place was so triggering?

The memory of being in the restaurant and running into this person flashed in my mind’s eye. There was a back and forth of questions and answers, like a ping pong match happening inside of my head. The mind asking away and the answers rising up from below.

I peeled layer after layer, until I found myself at the bottom of the dark well, the root of it all, “It’s my fault. It’s my fault I trusted someone enough to hurt me.”

There it was, this decades old root that had enough charge to take down an entire city, enough charge to strike back and hurt someone deeply when provoked. The present moment so tightly wound in a much deeper, far more ancient wound.

Aah, it was never about the sushi, never about what anyone else did or didn’t do; it was only ever about me. It was only ever about this false belief that was wrapped in responsibility and armored with guilt and shame. The map is absolutely not the territory.

Tears streamed down my face. I tried to hide them behind my sunglasses and keep my composure in the silence of the car. I grabbed from the stack of Chipotle napkins in the center console (I know I’m not the only one), dabbed my face, and blotted my nostrils.

The tears kept coming; they were the release of trapped emotion and relief. They were the realization of the amount of ownership and responsibility for the actions of others that I had decided to take so long ago in order to self-protect.

When someone’s actions hurt me in either benign or malignant ways, I blamed myself for not having armored up enough to prevent the “attack” from happening in the first place. I should have known and done better, but I hadn’t and, hence the trigger, the subconscious reminder of the pain and shame. It’s unrealistic; there’s no amount of armor one can wear to prevent themselves from ever getting hurt by someone else.

Our triggers are our responsibility. They point to where we are not whole, where we are wounded, and if we have the courage to unravel them we find liberation. Our liberation. We find the truth beyond the story or the incident.

It’s not easy to let others off the hook. It’s not easy to turn the tables on ourselves, to ask what is this bringing up in me? What belief lies buried deep in the unconscious yet, ultimately, has immense control in my life? Oftentimes, it something painful we’ve kept ourselves from looking at—something we, more than likely, have no consciousness around.

Triggers are a gift only if you have the courage to unravel the tight hold they have on you, only if you choose to uproot the belief that holds the charge. Awareness is everything.

What I now know is that if I ever hear this restaurant mentioned or brought up again, I won’t be triggered in the same way I was that day on the softball field. The charge will have dissipated. I would know that I am only ever responsible for my circus and my monkeys, not the hurtful actions of others.

I am also aware this process isn’t a one and done. It may take continual reminders until the trigger ceases to carry any charge at all. Healing, after all, is a journey and a process.

So, next time you find yourself triggered, I invite you to stop, take a breath, and ask yourself a series of “why” questions followed by “because” statements to see if you can’t get to the root of it all, which is where you’ll find your gift.

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About Rosalie Davis

Rosalie Davis is a transformational life coach, reiki master, and storyteller guiding clients to come home more fully to their true selves. She helps them unearth the beliefs, stories, habits, and patterns keeping them from living life consciously and in alignment with their most authentic selves, moving them toward empowered choice. She also facilitates women’s circles aimed at creating community, connection, and sisterhood. She works 1:1, in groups, in-person and virtually. rosaliedavis.com / Instagram / Facebook.

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How Admitting Your Weaknesses Could Actually Make You Stronger

“The first step towards change is awareness. The second step is acceptance.” ~Nathaniel Branden

Do me a favor and don’t tell my wife what I’m about to share with you.

I have an absurd number of weaknesses.

Just kidding. My wife, of course, knows this. She is well aware of my many shortcomings. While she would be happy to add to the growing Encyclopedia of dumb shit I do, I will keep this short and sweet out of respect for your time.

We live in a weird culture that’s afraid to admit any of us have weaknesses or struggles. We’re terrified because none of us want to look stupid or unqualified.

We pretend to be squeaky-clean specimens of perfection, but inside, our minds are on the verge of exploding as we obsess over questions like: What will people think of me? Will they think I’m dumb? Will I be passed up for a promotion? Will others discover that I’m struggling? Am I actually a fraud?!

What makes this even more challenging is that it’s a silly game we all willingly play.

Think of a typical job interview.

HR: “So, Terry, we’re really impressed with everything you shared today, but we have one final question. What would you say is your biggest weakness?”

Terry: “This one’s really hard to admit, but it’s got to be that I work too hard. I’m always willing to go above and beyond to get the job done.”

HR: “Wow, thank you for being so vulnerable, Terry. You sound like you’d be a great fit for mentoring our new hires as they navigate the challenges of working in a fast-paced environment.”

Here’s the truth: We both know Terry is full of crap. Like, c’mon, Terry, is that really your biggest weakness? That you work too hard? Are you sure it’s not that you’re an emotional black hole since your divorce, which is why your kids don’t talk to you?

I’m aware that what I’m about to share sounds contradictory, but it’s true. Admitting you have weaknesses is a sign of strength, not weakness. You must know what you can do and what you can’t, your powers and limitations, your strengths and vulnerabilities, what’s in your control and what isn’t.

There are obvious circumstances that make admitting our weaknesses easy. In fact, not realizing you are outside the scope of what you know in these situations makes you look about as bright as a jellyfish.

Break your leg? You go to the emergency room.

Car alternator blows? You go to a mechanic.

Time to do your business taxes? You go to an accountant.

But here’s where we all start to fall apart. What about when you’re depressed, hopeless, or emotionally drained, and you don’t know how to help yourself?

What do most of us do in the above scenario?

Sweet eff all.

Actually, that’s not true. We double down on negative habits like drinking, eating, shopping, or mindlessly scrolling on our phones, hoping something will change our state.

We’re not weak, right?

We don’t have a problem, right?

Who cares if we’re not addressing our emotions? There’s work to be done. I already don’t have time to get everything done, so why would I waste time on crap like this?

It’s embarrassing to admit that I believed not addressing my weaknesses was a sign of strength.

My depression only made me weak because I kept it hidden in the shadows—not because mental health struggles are signs of inherent weakness. I endured relentless suffering, tormented by the belief that I was a worthless bag of flesh who subjected my loved ones to my endless mistakes and would be better off dead.

What was I trying to prove?

Why was I so afraid of looking weak?

Would I be less of a man?

And here’s the irony. By asking those questions, I realized that I was the one labeling these weaknesses as such. That shift empowered me to confront these challenges head-on, seeking the support of a therapist and coach, and hold myself to a higher standard.

I’ve discovered that these “weaknesses” are sources of extraordinary growth. Therefore, acknowledging our weaknesses is the key to becoming stronger.

I was blind to the cost of my denial until I gained a different perspective. I needed a new pair of glasses to show me that how you do anything is how you do everything.

When I viewed these moments as gravity problems—things I couldn’t do anything about—I felt hopeless about everything in my life. But when I realized that these were challenges that I could overcome, I was given the opportunity to see that I could conquer any obstacle in my path if I was willing to embrace imperfection.

Don’t let the subtlety of this shift in thinking race past you as you read the rest of this story. Understand first that you and I are having this conversation because I chose life.

If you don’t address a broken leg, you’re going to hobble around like a pirate for the rest of your life.

If you don’t fix your alternator, you have a 3,000-pound paperweight.

If you don’t get an accountant to handle your business taxes, you will pay dearly to the tax man.

And if you don’t address your emotional issues?

You will forever be anchored to a tiny, scared version of yourself. Never capable of reaching your potential.

It’s not enough to know that you have weaknesses; you must know when you’ve reached the limit of what you can figure out independently. You’re outside your boundaries if you don’t know which side of the line you’re on, or if there even is a line at all.

I’m not here to tell you what to do, but you can bet I will leave you with a question.

Six months from now, what will you wish you had spent time on today? What action would help you get the support you need to overcome something you’ve been struggling with?

Calling a friend?

Grabbing breakfast with your mom?

Booking a therapist appointment?

That, my friend, is what matters most.

And nothing else on your to-do list will fulfill you if you don’t prioritize it.

Choosing not to act now is delaying a better future. So, whatever you’re going to do, do it. Do it now. Don’t wait.

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About Chris Wilson

Join Chris Wilson in 'Simplify Sundays,' a newsletter journey blending productivity insights, minimalism, and personal growth. Overcoming depression and bipolar disorder, Chris shares profound lessons for a balanced, fulfilling life. Discover the power of simplicity and mindfulness to transform challenges into growth opportunities. Embrace a life of less stress, more joy, and meaningful living. Click here to access Chris's Free Course on mindful simplicity, and start your journey towards a happier, more productive life.

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The Art of Bereavement: A Simple Creative Practice for the Grieving

“When you lose someone you love, you don’t learn to live without them…you learn to live with the love they left behind.” ~Anonymous

If I look like my best friend just died, that’s because he has. Not the one whom I played with every day growing up and haven’t seen in years, nor the one with whom I went to high school and stayed connected with on social media.

No. I lost my very best friend of nearly four decades. My gay “husband,” who lived with me for fourteen years and helped me raise my two youngest sons, from ages three and six until they grew up and left our nest. The same human who I loved endlessly and drove me crazy, not in equal parts because our connection was so strong and the “driving crazy” went along with the complete love package.

I lost the friend who made me laugh like no other human being ever has or will, who has left a hole so big in my heart that I am sure a doctor listening to my chest would know.

As an artist and art therapist, I have found much purpose working in grief and bereavement. The benefits of the visual arts in this work are well documented, with reports of greatly improved well-being, meaning making, and continuing bonds with those who have passed.

And yet, knowing all this, serving many others in this difficult journey, and even losing my own father, my very best friend leaving the earth brought forward a new level of something. Pain? Yes, of course; the raw kind that physically rips through the body and soul, abates, and begins again. Loss? Like nothing I have ever felt or can describe. Grief? I am not sure I even knew what the word meant, until now.

But here’s what I didn’t anticipate: a deeply felt different “frequency” of love that was equally as palpable as my pain.

Ironically, it occurred as I was leading a grief retreat called “The Art of Bereavement,” only two weeks after my best friend transitioned.

It didn’t result from a discussion of dreams, mediums, or strange sightings, although this particular group was eager to share their experiences with all of these things. It happened through the very practice I was offering.

Since the workshop was only ninety minutes, I had decided on mixed media, which is typically engaging to everyone—paints in every color and a plethora of collage materials like magazines, textured papers, sand, glitter, stickers, and shells. These would be used on round canvases as symbolic “mandalas,” which have been found in art therapy to contain difficult emotions and are known for soothing the soul.

After explaining the process and materials, I guided the group inward through a short meditation. I began working on my mandala alongside them, choosing materials my friend would love: zebra paper, a touch of leopard, glitter, black paint, and a few rhinestones; words to our favorite song from Evita.

Suddenly, I noticed something stirring deep inside my being, I felt the love of my departed friend coming forward in a powerful, beautiful way that I had never experienced in life. 

Since I was teaching, I was completely caught off guard, but there it was. Rather than dismissing what was happening, I spontaneously shared with my group.

In that moment, as a result, something else as equally profound occurred: the people I was facilitating in their heart-wrenching grief began holding the space for mine. 

A few of them paused their work and gathered around me. They asked questions—who he was to me, why I had chosen the materials I chose, what I would miss the most. With tears streaming down my face, I told them… he was a special kind of soulmate with a connection that could not be compared to anyone else. He was a brilliant artist, my dearest friend and my family.

I shared that he will make me laugh forever and how I am not sure what life can possibly be like without him. I let them know how devastated I was for my sons, who had also lost their birth father several years after we divorced. Someone hugged me and another cried. They all listened intently while looking at my mandala, honoring my loss alongside of theirs.

As the teacher became the student, I was humbled. And the profound love I had experienced was now filling the room. No longer were we  separated by any notion of “retreat” or “therapist.” We were fully united as humans, in the ubiquitous experience of deep loss and love.

I was moved to ask if anyone else wanted to bring their departed loved one into the room, through the art they were making and the materials they had chosen.   

A moment didn’t pass before everyone was taking turns. Someone’s wife had spent all of her free time in nature, so her mandala was covered with trees. A young woman’s sister had adored her cat, so hers was covered with images of kittens. For a departed husband, musical notes and a guitar symbolized his passion for song.

The mandalas were full of rainbows, words, landscapes, and hearts, all lifting up the essence of those who were no longer with us. And yet, through image, symbol, and metaphor, each and every one of them was there.

As I closed the group, I deeply thanked everyone for holding the space for my grief, something I will never forget. I gave thanks to them for attending, as well as to the energies of their lost loved ones for being present. I invited them to continue working on and visiting with their mandalas, whenever they were called. I reminded them to honor the kittens and rainbows, to sing favorite songs and to creatively stay connected, in whatever way made sense for them.

I let them know how grief is completely different for everyone, that there is no right or wrong, and that they should each follow whatever path worked, including seeking outside support.   

Inviting everyone to take a few more final deep breaths together, I lifted up the idea of sharing the profound human connection we had all experienced that day, reminding them that we are never really alone in our loss. And, as they had all helped me, they each had the capacity to help someone else.

“In the end,” I said, “we are all both teachers and students. Namaste.” 

At Home “Art of Bereavement” Practice

If you’d like to create your own art to honor the loss of someone you loved and help process your feelings, give this practice a try.

Grief work can be extremely difficult, and many communities offer free grief groups and counseling services. If any part of this practice becomes too challenging, please honor your experience and move to something else. There is no right, wrong, good or bad to grief work, including the artmaking.

Materials:  heavy paper, preferably watercolor or mixed media

Special photos, meaningful writing or words, images symbolic of your loved one from google or magazines, stickers, paint, glue, any scrapbooking materials, or tissues.

1. Get quiet.

Eyes opened or closed, notice whatever is coming up in your body. Do your best to breathe into it or around it, just for a few minutes.

2. Bring to mind a special memory of your loved one, tuning into the sensory experience.

What colors do you see? What sounds stand out? What do you feel? If any of this becomes too difficult, focus only on your breath.

3. Draw a circle on your paper, either freehand or by tracing a round shape.

4. Allow the materials to “call.”

Without much thought, begin using your materials to collage and paint inside of your circle.

5. Tune in.

Art materials are a wonderful path to mindfulness. Notice how the paint flows, the paper sounds, and the textures feel.

6. Open to the experience.

If tears come, let them flow; if you need a break, step aside.

7. Take your time.

Once you feel “done,” reflect on your work and how you are feeling. Notice if this creative approach has helped you in any way.

8. Honor the image.

Put your art in a special place where you can visit with it when you are moved to do so. If it feels right, share your art with loved ones.

9. Be gentle with yourself.

Give yourself love and compassion for doing this work and be sure to seek outside support if needed.

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About Elizabeth Bryan-Jacobs

Elizabeth Bryan-Jacobs is an artist, art therapist, and bestselling Chicken Soup for the Soul and Soul Models author. She is passionate about awakening clients to the healing trifecta of creativity, mindfulness, and nature and the transformative power of dreamwork, facilitating an ongoing journey of connection and enlightenment. Elizabeth shares creativity retreats at exclusive venues like Canyon Ranch and the Golden Door Spa. She works privately and with groups and can be found at www.creativeawakenings.net.

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Bulletproof Self-Love: How to Build an Unshakeable Relationship with Yourself

“Before you put yourself down, please consider everything you’ve accomplished to get to this point, every life you’ve touched, and every moment you’ve pushed beyond your fears. You are a champion, a fighter. You are worthy of nothing less than the deepest love you have to share.” ~Scott Stabile

It seems that we’re being bombarded daily with heart-felt messages to love ourselves more. It’s everywhere—from our Instagram newsfeed to handprinted tote bags to the “You are worthy” mural at your local coffee shop.

I appreciate the society-wide agreement we seem to have made to remind ourselves to choose self-love.

But endless commandments like “Put yourself first!” and “Remember your worth!” rarely explain how to actually follow through with it. We talk about self-love and self-worth as though it’s a matter of remembering to floss your teeth at night—as if you can choose better relationships, set healthy boundaries, and take care of your body by just remembering to do so.

If it doesn’t come easily, loving yourself might feel like walking into a new job with no training and being expected to figure it out without a manual or supervisor. Through no fault of your own, you may not have developed the muscle for self-love and care.

I know this because I’ve had in-depth conversations with people who flat out told me, “I don’t know how to have compassion for myself.”

You don’t have an arduous, uphill struggle to feel worthy and self-loving because you lack the inner capacity for it.

If you know how to feel hand-on-chest, lower-lip-puckered-out sympathy and compassion for others—even if it’s for endangered polar bears—then you have the capacity to cultivate this feeling for yourself. And it’s not your fault if you feel lost on where to begin.

Working with Your Unloved Parts

The culprits that thwart your best efforts to practice self-love often come from your shadow—an unconscious receptacle that safeguards all the parts of yourself that’ve been rejected and pushed away. Your shadow deploys a lot of unconscious strategies to make sure you keep sabotaging yourself and avoiding your rejected parts.

Because laziness was deeply entrenched in my shadow, I learned early in life to cope with my unlovable parts by overworking myself. Every nook and cranny of my calendar was chock full of social outings, chores, hurried “leisure” walks, and things to occupy my mind. I only felt good enough when I was constantly busy, so I developed a wicked good avoidance strategy that kept the inner scarcity just below my level of awareness.

Eventually, I noticed this endless game of tag between me and the horrific emptiness. I learned to stop pushing it away and instead developed a capacity to be with the sensations it stirred up in my body.

There are remarkable benefits to working with any fear or disgust you have toward your shadow parts, but a lot of folks run into roadblocks because we’re wired to avoid pain and move toward pleasure.

When the terror of shadow parts arises in the body, our visceral reaction is often to push it away, lodging it further away into our psyche.

Neuroscience has also shown us that negative self-talk can actually give you a dopamine hit if it’s what your brain thinks is “correct,” even if the beliefs are negative and sabotaging.

This leads us to push away our unloved parts and berate them.

Thankfully, there’s another option.

Integrate your shadow parts by creating a safe space for them—more specifically, for the uncomfortable emotions that emerge around them. For example, if you habitually feel anxious in social situations because you think of yourself as being awkward, you can practice integrating your “awkward self” by creating space for the disgust or fear associated with it.

Being with difficult emotions means being with the sensations without feeding them negative thoughts. This actually sends signals of safety to your brain and nervous system that lowers the internal red flags. With continued practice, your brain loses a reason to push the pedal to the metal on stress responses like anxiety, and the uncomfortable sensations begin to subside. This is the true meaning of “facing your fears.”

When you reach the other side of a difficult emotion, it often feels divinely euphoric and empowering—like you’re walking across the finish line of a marathon. Allowing emotions to pass through your body builds resilience. Every time you practice the art of allowing, it becomes easier to anchor back into your power.

Practicing Self-Love

Nurturing your capacity to think self-loving thoughts, be self-loving, and feel the sensations of self-love is also a necessary practice.

You might be surprised to learn that you could be projecting all your love onto other people. Whether it’s a romantic partner, friend, or tv character, if you shower them with adoration, there’s love inside you, but perhaps it doesn’t feel quite at home. Parts of you might feel deeply flawed or incomplete—whether you’re conscious of it or not—so you’re shoving your love into the hands of someone else instead. Projecting love onto others is a way of defending yourself against inner parts you’ve deemed unlovable. Everyone does this in some form or another.

The remedy to this situation is taking back those projections and investing time and energy into finding and loving those qualities in yourself.

We all have a negativity bias in our brains, so we pay more attention to what’s wrong, unsafe, or not good enough about ourselves and the world around us. If this default setting is left unchecked, it leads to major brain ruts—and well, we’ve all met a curmudgeon before!

If you want to lean into what’s radiantly loveable about yourself, you have to shamelessly focus on what you want to love about yourself. If you’re not sure what that is, then choose something and nurture the hell out of it. Tenacity goes a long way when you want to reverse old patterns.

Around the time I began learning to face my own inner void, I took myself on a journey of self-love and self-care through embodied sensual movement and pole dancing.

I call it my divine intervention.

Seemingly out of nowhere, I instinctively knew one day I wanted to become a pole dancer. Even though I had literally zero background in dancing or physical exercise in general, I realized that I had a dancer’s heart inside of me. As luck would have it, a brand-new studio had just opened up in my city six months earlier.

I signed up for an assortment of classes, but it was the feminine movement pole dancing class that captivated me. I’d been in a rush my whole life—for no particular reason at any given moment—but this slow-as-honey practice forced me to start paying attention to myself in ways I never had before.

I invested in myself by taking these classes. It allowed me to stop feeling guilty for being lazy. I didn’t need to overstuff myself with work, relationships, or other outside sources of validation anymore. I learned to slow down, feel my body, and take better care of myself.

Learning to love yourself and know your worth is like having direct access to your inner authority. The self-doubt, sabotage, and low self-esteem lose their power and you finally get to take the helm. If you’re ready to stop second-guessing and minimizing yourself, here’s how to get started.

5 Ways to Start Loving Yourself

1. Expand your capacity to be with your unloved parts.

Every time you create space for an unloved part, you’re changing the relationship between you and that part. Even if you have lots of deep wounds, your relationship to yourself is always changing. The key to creating safe space for your parts is staying with the sensations of fear or disgust and away from stories. If you allow thoughts of worry or self-judgment to run the show, the unloved parts won’t get reconditioned.

The best way to do this is to work with emotions in real time. Find a quiet place to breathe through the sensations. Emotions run a lifespan of ninety seconds at most if you don’t retrigger the emotion with negative thoughts.

2. Open up your nervous system to receive love.

This is about practicing the art of receiving goodwill and kindness in all forms—positive feedback, compliments, and words of affirmation.

How often do you fully accept a compliment? How often do you pause to let kind words—whether it’s a thank-you email from a friend or gratitude from a stranger—land in your body? We’re so quick to brush off affirmations, so what if you rewarded yourself by unapologetically receiving them instead? Make a practice of slowing down enough to take it all in. When you do, you’re reinforcing the pathway to connection and self-love in your nervous system.

3. Affirm yourself with the love you give to others.

If you already have the capacity to love others, then there’s an existing pathway to self-love. It just needs to be rerouted back to you.

On a neurological level, if self-love feels like a stranger to you, the neural networks related to your self-image probably have a poor association with the biochemicals related to emotions around love and worthiness. Thankfully, neurons that fire together, wire together!

Try this exercise in front of a mirror. Think of someone you deeply love and would describe as being super “loveable.” Close your eyes, see that person in your head, and think about why you love them so much that you can literally feel the tingly sensations coursing through your body. Then quickly open your eyes and repeat to yourself while looking in the mirror, “I am so loveable” with an extra emphasis on “I.” Make sure to work up the feeling on a visceral level in your body before you open your eyes. You’re “borrowing” the feel-good neurons while activating the self-image neurons to create new neural pathways.

Have fun with this and change out “loveable” with other qualities you want to feel toward yourself in each round. Repetition matters, so make this a regular practice.

4. Create actionable self-love.

If you truly loved yourself in the way you wanted to, what would you do differently? Make a list of specific behaviors you want to change. For each one, ask yourself, “What’s the absolute smallest step I can take to work toward creating this behavior—something so small, I can do it right now?”

Hint: the smallest step is always smaller than you think. For instance, if you want to ask for the pay raise you deserve, you might think the next smallest step is writing a letter of justification. If you feel head-to-toe inspired to do that right now, by all means, please do! But give yourself permission to start even smaller if the thought of drafting a letter immediately gives you anxiety. The goal is to start building momentum right NOW, so keep the steps super small and easy to do.

5. “Drop in” to your embodied self-worth.

You have access to your self-worth anytime you want because it’s inherent. There’s nothing you ever need to do to earn it. Even if you’re not sure what it feels like, your worthiness is always there, waiting for you to reconnect to it.

Getting into your body senses is a fantastic way to find where dignity lives in your body so that you can deepen your relationship with it. Make it a regular practice to take a few minutes to turn inward and “get to know” your non-negotiable worthiness. Where is it located? If it was a color, what color would it be? If it was a shape, what shape would it be? What’s the texture, movement, and sound of your self-worth? Bring it to life and revisit it often. Remember that every good relationship requires nurturing.

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About Krissy Loveman

Krissy Loveman is a trauma-sensitive life coach and shadow worker who helps people build confidence and reclaim their power over anxiety, people-pleasing, and low self-esteem. She specializes in rewiring neural pathways to create deep and lasting change. Get her free Centering practice, a guided somatic meditation that invites you to tap into your inherent sense of self-worth and who you’re becoming.

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