healing

Why I’m So Damn Tired

April 30, 2018 by Must Love Crows Leave a Comment

I’m tired, Y’all.

I’m tired of seeing and hearing women embrace the patriarchy, and shit on and minimize other women.

I’m tired of witnessing women refuse to do the work required to see the truth below their lack of empathy: that they don’t like or trust themselves.

If you’re a woman, and you feel the need to slap hurtful generalizations onto other women, you’ve got some work to do.

And I feel for you, babe. It’s not easy work. But being awful to your fellow females is gonna make things even harder for you in the long haul.

‘Cause, it feels so shitty to be mean – just awful.

To be clear, when someone acts shitty, it’s not the human being that’s awful, it’s their behavior.

It’s much more humane to separate the human being from their actions – This opens the door to forgiveness, which opens the door to connection.

I’m tired of doing the empath/narcissist dance, too – Lord grant me the strength in that department.

I don’t want to be better than anyone else. I just wanna get clear on how to not enable behavior that attempts to minimize other people’s feelings, without having my soul sucked dry in the process.

I’m tired of feeling like I have to fight for what’s right, but hyper-aware that it’s what I need to do at times.

I’m tired of feeling uncomfortable, but cognizant of how prevalent discomfort is in the growth equation.

What I really want is for things to be easier for everyone. And I want things to be easy because I occasionally subscribe to the greatest indoctrinated falsity: that life can somehow be easy.

Now, to my dearest full moon, the biggest and most powerful one of the year:

You are making me tired. I love you girl, but I just can’t wait until you leave town.

Seriously. The last week or so has been madness. Absolute emotional madness.

See you all in a few days, on the other side of all of this very human frustration/confusion.

Why You Don’t Need To Forgive Just Yet

January 23, 2018 by Must Love Crows Leave a Comment

There are some things I’m not ready to forgive. And because of that, I’ve found myself guilty of a lot of things:

Of being dismissive and cavalier.
Of not wanting to be nice.
Of feeling pressured to hug people I don’t want to hug, and being angry about it.
Of not wanting to get over it just yet – of wanting to feel and process the anger I never let myself acknowledge.
Of rehashing hurt from many years ago because at the time, I never saw it for what it was. I thought what went on was OK.
Of not noticing that someone’s concern was toxicity in a fancy dress.
Of letting someone use my pain as a way to fuel their hate, and not letting myself feel the anger associated with that betrayal until now.

But my biggest issue in all of this is in identifying and acknowledging the truth of how I feel and learning to live with it and by it, under the watchful eye of a wounded society.

Trying to live in this realm that allows me to feel, even though it would be more convenient and “appropriate” if I just hugged someone I don’t want to hug, is tricky territory. And here’s what I’ve learned in meandering it:

We don’t have to let it go just yet. In fact, it’s not up to us. Our hearts choose when it’s time to forgive.

As long as we are aware of the anger and resentment, let ourselves feel it, and acknowledge that it comes from a pain that needs to be felt, we’re going to be ok. One day the anger will dissipate, and we’ll be able to move on without the weight on our hearts.

Again, it’s not up to us. All we can do is continue to allow ourselves to feel how we feel.

And when we do forgive, it doesn’t mean we’ll have to want to hug someone we don’t want to hug.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean welcoming someone who violated our health and heart with open arms back into our lives. No enabling required.

It means one day being able to think of them without clamping your heart shut. And until your body, mind and soul are ready to do that, let yourself be pissed off.

Give yourself the freedom to feel what you feel. Give yourself permission to not be ready to forgive.

What I Learned From Reconciling With My Dad

November 28, 2017 by Must Love Crows 2 Comments

I reconciled with my dad this past summer. It had been about 6 years since we last spoke or saw each other.

We’ve had a tumultuous relationship over the years, which I associate in part to us being so much alike (Full disclosure: it’s taken a while for me to be able to admit that.) We both have strong presences and personalities, which has played a big role in our inability to establish and maintain a healthy relationship.

But here we are today, and I’m grateful for this space of time in which we can establish a level of trust, which has never existed until now.

The process of rebuilding a relationship with him has had its share of awkward moments. Time changes people, at least it has both of us. And you have to get to know the new version of them.

You have to release the memory of the person you used to know, in order to appreciate who they are in the present.

I think we both get a little freaked out at times: scared to say the wrong thing and have everything go sideways. But I am hopeful that won’t happen again because I know we have both missed being in each other’s lives, and that this is important to us.

When he wasn’t around, life never felt complete. There was a constant lead weight on my heart, in the form of gut-wrenching predictions that would run through my brain – emotional torture really: “What if he dies and I never get to see him again?”

So it’s a huge wave of relief, being able to communicate with him, and release my grip on all the agonizing what-ifs.

This version I see of my dad is more like the father I’ve always wanted: Loyal, Dedicated, Kind.

And I think I’m more like the daughter he’s always wanted: Honest, Generous, Kind.

I feel like I can rely on him now in the ways that are truly important. I.e., emotionally.

It’s really a monumental feeling to own, as I spent much of my life seeking what I never got from him growing up from other people. (FYI: I failed miserably).

I’m a realist and know I’ll never get the version of my dad I dreamed of or wanted. And truth be told, I am absolutely OK with that. It’s not productive or kind to create a blueprint of the perfect father in my head and expect him to live up to it. He is human after all, just like me, readily capable of making mistakes.

And he has made mistakes. But in holding my forgiveness ransom in exchange for perfection, I suffer. So I’ve decided to be courageous, and let it all go. And he’s done the same for me.

I’ve learned that if I want a good relationship with my dad, I have to be generous with him. And generosity looks like patience when he’s not being the way I want him to be.

When I’m patient with him, it makes it easier for me to extend some patience my way. Because in order to forgive myself for all of my deficiencies, mistakes and terrible choices, I have to forgive him too.

There can be no healing if there is not full circle forgiveness. Click To Tweet

I now know that you can’t get love from others unless you love yourself first. You have to model how it is you want to be treated, by way of treating yourself well. Meanwhile, you must accept that in doing so, there is no guarantee you will get treated the way you want to be treated.

But you can appreciate who you are, with or without the approval of others. And you don’t need other people to relate to you or even understand you to do that. Which brings us to a powerful truth:

No one is capable of being your saviour: That’s your job.

By meandering this new relationship territory with my dad I’m noticing all the ways in which we are the same: We both just want to be valued and appreciated for who we are.

And after all the years I spent feeling so different from my family – like I didn’t fit in with them, which led to years of feeling rejected, isolated, less than – I now know that I was spinning a torturous story in my head.

We are all very much alike in our desire to be loved and validated. Our differences lie in the methods we use to try to attain it.

On good days, I see the humanity in all of us – innate flaws that are in and of themselves quite beautiful, if you can get past the instinctual need for judgement.

And on bad days, I feel like a rejected 12 year old.

But below the surface, I know that I’m just trying to continue to value myself, which is a volatile process. Depending on the day, that can and will look like me feeling like the odd one out. But most days I’m cool with it, which is great because:

It truly is paradigm shifting, when you learn to value yourself. Click To Tweet

And I think that’s a huge reason why I have a relationship with my dad right now that actually works: because more often than not, I value and appreciate who I am. My ability to do that cracks open the door to me being able to value and appreciate him.

And while there’s still a level of comfort missing between us (with my entire family for that matter) I’m working towards feeling more relaxed around him, meanwhile continuing to embrace what I bring to the table:

Sensitivity.

Compassion.

Insight.

Instincts.

Voracious emotional generosity.

So in a roundabout way, reconciling with my dad added more fuel to the volatile belief that who I am as is, is OK. And for that reason and many more, I’m extremely grateful.

Have you signed up for my newsletter yet? I share stories, insights from my wellness journey and resources with my growing list of subscribers.

Validating the Victim: Truths on Being Violated and Sharing Your Story

October 24, 2017 by Must Love Crows Leave a Comment

I don’t often write posts that are timely and topical. Ie, ones that reference what’s happening in Hollywood or on the news.

I usually ax any ideas to do with it because more often than not what’s coming out of the news elicits an extremely heated response from me, of which I’m not keen on sharing here. Because negativity is toxic.

I often fear the backlash speaking my mind about heated topics might bring about too. Lord knows there are many people out there who make it their job to attack beliefs opposite to that of their own. And I have to be in the right head space to be able to handle that kind of stuff.

But sometimes things come up on shows like entertainment tonight (which I watch occasionally – don’t doubt the power of distracting yourself from the constant drive to evolve) that have me going, “whoa – I need to write something on that, even though fear doesn’t want me to.”

Hearing the harrowing stories of sexual assault in Hollywood is one of those things.

It started with me feeling incredibly emotional about it all. Realizing these women had been violated without any validation just gutted me. Not to mention the trauma of being silenced by a predator for fear of losing their careers, and having to see that man in the spotlight, incessantly reminding them of what had been done to them.

And sure they get validated for other things, like their looks and acting. But that’s not real.

Real validation is when someone looks you in the eyes and says, “I’m so sorry that person hurt you. I am here for you. I care about you.”

Glam teams, press junkets, million dollar homes and thousand dollar red-soled heels don’t provide that kind of validation.

These women are worthy of empathy, compassion, and support. And even though Hollywood feels like a world away, and I don’t know what it is to go through what they went through, or live the life they do, I feel their pain and share in their suffering.

Which is why I’ve shed quite a few tears thinking of these women over the past couple weeks. I’ve thought of Rose, and Reese, and Jennifer. And I’ve taken the time to read the admissions of the lesser named actresses – stories of which hold no less value than that of their admittedly more famous counterparts.

These women were taught that good little girls don’t speak out. That to be nice is to be quiet. That in order to be good, you must keep your mouth shut – just like the rest of us were.

I still catch myself shaming myself for speaking, or sharing an opinion. I often feel heavy amounts of guilty for doing so.

I learned that somewhere, just as every other woman out there has. And I need to unlearn it.

I’ve witnessed so many women over the years, including myself, scared to speak out for fear of being labeled “Shit disturbers” or not being liked or approved of.

And it’s all gotta come to a close.

I’m so grateful for the courageous Rose McGowan, and countless other public figures who inspired so many women to come forward.

Sharing your story is one of the most powerful things you can do.

Because when you speak, you inspire others to speak, creating a dialogue that can help heal not only yourself but other women as well.

In light of that truth, here’s my story:

A couple of years ago, when I was in the thick of my own healing, I recalled a memory from my childhood. I was 15 and on the ferry, heading to visit a friend in the city, when a very large man came up behind me in the bus ticket line-up.

I remember sensing the predatory nature of his stance and his breathing – there was lot’s of room in the line, and there was no need for him to stand that close. My suspicions were confirmed as he whispered in my ear, through staggered and labored breathing: “Don’t worry little girl. It’s OK. Just stand right there.”

I knew something was very wrong about this scenario. Yet I froze.

I didn’t feel it was OK to speak.

Two years ago when I remembered this moment, I felt a huge wave of rage come over me. I was so angry about the fact that I didn’t feel it was OK to stand up for myself. That I didn’t feel I deserved to tell someone to back off.

Why didn’t I yell out, “back off you fucking pedophile!” Why didn’t I say anything, or at the very least, leave the scene? What was wrong with me?!

I’m not mad anymore. I’m not even mad at the severely damaged man who eagerly sexualized a 15-year-old who was waiting for a bus ticket. I’m just sad because I didn’t know the full story.

The full story is, had I valued myself, and been taught that it’s OK to stand up for myself, I’d have said something. And then maybe that potentially dangerous person would have gotten called out and shamed for his disturbing behavior, and been less likely to try it again. Because I know in my heart he has.

I won’t take on the blame. I was a young girl lacking many lessons, some of which would take over 20 years to learn. And today, I have too much self-taught love for myself to carry any shame about that scene.

But I know from reliving that experience that we have to teach each other it’s OK to speak out. And we have to support the hell out of each other, even when we don’t understand each other’s pain.

We don’t have to birth children to teach the women of the future what it is to value themselves. We can do that by speaking out.

So tell your story. Hollywood isn’t the only place this happens. It happens every single day. And we all have to get more comfortable talking about it.

It’s so important that we admit to the times we’ve been violated or assaulted. Because when we do we teach other women that being female doesn’t mean silencing yourself when you’re suffering.

Much love,

Why I Lost My Virginity to a Jerk

July 7, 2017 by Must Love Crows 1 Comment

I really loathe the phrase, “losing my virginity.” It’s not a sock or a set of car keys for crying out loud.

But then I named this article that so…. lol. “Lost Innocence” sounded overly dramatic – I wasn’t feeling it. Note to self: come up with a better term for doing the deed for the first time down the road.

I was 16 years old when the whole lost virginity experience happened for me, and there was nothing loving or romantic about it. No pleasant synonyms can be attached to it. It was all about a girl wanting to impress a boy, who she thought liked her, coupled with a sense of owing. This feeling of owing a guy sex wasn’t a one-off for me, and sadly, continued for many years to follow.

But back to the first time.

There was this guy at school who was good-looking and popular, and one day he started paying attention to me. Picking me up from work, giving me rides home. Calling me. I just assumed he liked me as a friend. Reason being, in the 90s, when it was all about being a conventional beauty, I was the opposite.

I looked nothing like Kelly from Beverly Hills 90210, and the prominent bump on my nose placed me in the not-so-hot category. The amount of time I wasted dreaming of a nose job and wanting to look like someone else – it was so sad. Not until three years ago did I finally learn to accept what I looked like, bump on the nose and all.

Anyways, back in high school, when this dude started wanting to spend time with me, I was happy but also completely glib to his motivations. To me, there was no way he wanted to be anything but my friend. My non-existent self-esteem, coupled with the fact that he happened to be close friends with my good male friend wouldn’t allow the thought to enter my brain.

The fact that I referred to this male friend of mine as good is also quite sad because as I would soon find out, he was anything but. At the time and for years after what I’m about to share, I thought he was good to me when in reality, it was a deeply toxic and dysfunctional relationship based on verbal and emotional abuse that I took part in for many years. (Check out a poem I wrote about it on my Instagram.)

Back to Mr. Popular-Good-Looking, who paid a lot of attention to me for a while which I thoroughly enjoyed. I mean, what 16-year-old doesn’t like attention from someone who’s desired by other girls? In my mind, everything was going great, up until the night when I let him get what he wanted.

He had been giving me rides for quite a while, so one night after work when he made his move on me, I let him do it.

I felt like I owed him. I lacked the self-worth to say no. My need to please him and be liked overrode my need to like myself, or be comfortable.

I don’t remember a lot of the details, and wouldn’t get into them if I could. But when it was over I recall a deep sense of relief that it was done, because I wasn’t into it – At all.

Fast forward to the next day. The phone rings, and it’s that friend of mine I told you about earlier. He’s furious. Calling me a whore. Ripping me to shreds. He couldn’t believe I did what I did. Which is comical, because all I did was lay there while his buddy took what he wanted and left.

And Mr. Popular-Good looking? He went radio silent. Wouldn’t return my calls. Dismissed my attempts to chat in real life. Whatever interest he had in me vanished, and I was left contemplating the fact that I was the one who had caused all the problems, with the added bonus that I was now a whore.

I think this is about the time that I really starting owning the title “piece of shit.”

I wouldn’t go around saying that’s what I was, but the way I talked about myself and treated myself said it all.

Being self-deprecating became part of my identity. It made a lot of people uncomfortable, but it was my way of trying to take the power back.

I don’t think this scenario was the all-encapsulating moment I lost myself. I think it was a series of traumatic scenarios that helped me learn to hate myself and become the untrusting, deeply pessimistic person I was up until a few years ago.

That moment, when the guy I gave my virginity to decided I was no longer relevant and rejected me like a used toy, and when my “friend” decided I was equal parts useless and disgusting – those were scarring moments for me.

Though I used to feel all sorts of shame and anger about those events, I now feel an innate sadness and compassion for the little girl who went through them. In looking at it as an outsider, I am better able to release the intense feelings I have about what happened all those years ago.

But I’ll never forget what happened, as it will forever be a part of my journey and who I am today. The memory reminds me that I am worth more than being disposed of and being treated like a replaceable, only-good-for-my-vagina toy.

I know now that no matter what happens, I don’t have to put up with being verbally abused, and I don’t have to own a title someone else tries to give me.

Today I see myself as a victim of a madly egocentric boy, whose self-worth was tied up in how long his list of sexual conquests could get (FYI: he learned that from somewhere.)

His desires came before caring about other people’s feelings, and I was manipulated into thinking that I meant something to him. And the thing is, he probably doesn’t even realize what he did.

I saw him quite a few years back at a bar, when I was still drinking (heavily I might add), and told him that he took my virginity. I think he had a shocked look on his face, but it’s a hazy memory at best. Regardless, I don’t think he’ll ever understand how deeply the choices he made shaped and changed my life.

I don’t think many people understand the power they hold in the choices and decision they make for that matter.

We are all so much more powerful than we think, which is why it’s so important to focus on being kind.

If we get right with ourselves, we are capable of making better decisions, ones that consider the effects of our behaviors and actions on not just ourselves but on the people around us.

I could never have known back then the magnitude of the act of losing my virginity. In fact, for years I dismissed it as insignificant. But today I understand that act, along with the events that followed, created major cracks in my foundation. Cracks that, along with all the others that preceded and proceeded it, would become part of an emotional undoing and rebuilding, 20 years later.

I am who I am, right now at this moment, because of my desperation to be loved by others. That desperation told me to let a jerk take my virginity many years ago.

But because I let that happen, I am the woman I am today – someone I am so incredibly proud of.

SaveSave

Anger and Following Your Calling

April 29, 2017 by Must Love Crows Leave a Comment

Anger has played a big role in my life.

It’s been my side-kick; my go-to response when someone tries to tell me the way I’m feeling is wrong. Or that the way I inherently am isn’t OK.

There have been plenty of times when my behavior has been in need of correction. I know in the past my feelings and actions were irrational due to my heavy drinking.

But now I’m in this zone where I trust myself and like myself enough to know that my feelings serve a purpose: that they exist for a reason.

And I’m working on responding to outsider requests for alterations to those feelings with less aggression.

I default to anger when people try to coerce me into believing how I feel is not OK. Because to me that’s manipulation.

But then I take a moment to breathe and remember this:

People get very uncomfortable when we don’t think like them or want to follow their lead. They feel very unsettled when someone strums to a beat they don’t know how to play along to.

Not everyone reacts this way. A lot of light and laughter has been brought to this world by way of people being themselves, feelings and all.

Because when we are true to who we are, we radiate good vibes. And good vibes are powerful.

We don’t have to please everyone and subdue ourselves to soothe the minds of those who don’t understand us.

What we have to do is hold strong to what we know to be true to us.

Because when we stifle ourselves so that someone else’s idea of normal can continue to exist, we affirm that being true to who we are is not OK.

Our number one job in life is to be who we are. When we do that, the people around us will pick up on our authenticity, and feel inclined to follow suit, creating big, life-altering change.

That’s how big our roles are in this life. We are all integral and important and powerful, particularly in our authentic state.

So let’s move forward as we are, releasing the need to be disgruntled. Let’s say mercy to the struggle to be right or wrong, and make room to become whatever it is we feel called to do.

Even if we don’t know the details of what that is yet. Because I sure don’t.

All I know is I feel something calling me. And it says, “Speak”

Those that want us to change want their idea of normal to continue to exist. And our existence threatens that.

I know that they are scared to love themselves enough to be honest. And I can have compassion for their plight, because that used to be me.

Some days it still is.

But when the mental tempests of anger subside, I am reminded of this beautifully freeing truth:

Be who you are. Always.

And that’s enough for me. Even if it’s not enough for others.

Enjoy your weekend friends.