Glamorized

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Here is what I shared on Instagram account last year right after I completed watching the 2nd season of The Crown:

The most disturbing thing about season 2 of the Crown was watching the queen and the way she, even as her Royal Highness, acts merely as a puppet in a man’s world.

“Female power involves women taking part in the conversation either in the public arena or the dinner table, and having the same emotional space in which to do so as men.  It means women not having to fear punishment of any kind.” ~ Marianne Williamson

I am not a historian so this post is not about monarchy, or a direct judgement of the queen, but rather a reflection of us women, and people in general, losing our own power. The “attachment” to an outcome is surely always going to cause us to compromise and tolerate things we would never tolerate otherwise.
While in the Crown this attachment to preserving the old ways and honoring the ancestors was completely exposed, I think that each of us constantly does this in our own lives. In wanting to belong, we often sacrifice what is possible.
I never wanted to change my last name (that was my father’s) even though it made so much more sense to go with my mother’s.  I was in agony for so many years growing up, so much so that I only finally broke through it when I got married.  Even then, I decided to wait for my citizenship to actually formally change it.  Feeling like I am “disobeying” was way stronger than my personal desire to break free.

I wonder if anyone sees the places where being faithful to the old ways is robbing them of opportunity to owning who they really are and can be.”

I remember taking so much interest in monarchy when I watched this show and following up with many documentaries about the queen herself, Lady Diana Spencer, Kate and William and so on.  The more I watched, the more I felt that being a royal was almost like a curse, one is born into this privilege but then is completely robbed of a normal experience of growing up – paparazzi follow your every step of the way and while I would personally love to have more audience, I can’t imagine that someone would fill tabloids with my every move.  Nor would I find it important – and it’s not just because I am not a celebrity but because certain things don’t need to be glorified.

There is something that has us get fascinated by the stories we see on TV and buy as real.  I am still blown away by the popularity of Kim Kardashian for example. While I actually admire her ruthlessness and probably great marketing skills, I can’t help but feel that her content literally has no value.

This is a bit how I felt after watching the royal wedding.  I got curious and wanted to see – I fell for the fairy tale and even thought of myself as jealous and less than.  In allowing all those feelings to come up, even writing about them, I realized: something here doesn’t add up.  Naturally, I won’t spend time trying to prove the point, as far as I am concerned, I really don’t care what happens, but what I do care about is that this fairy tale princess story feels a bit like a drug of choice. Mesmerized by what they see, the surface of it all, people all over America have been glued to their screens and social medias commenting and sharing their love for the royal couple, their view of the whole thing and alike.  In a process, I think many don’t realize, this smoke screen of happily ever after is just as dangerous as photoshopped models that have us create unrealistic expectations of ourselves and our bodies.

I am happily married:  I define it as being committed and in love with my husband and able to solve any problem with him in a conversation.  We haven’t gone to bed mad at each other for the entire time we’ve been married (and while we dated).  We don’t agree on everything, we even have loud disagreements but we keep it real and we work on it and when it comes to it, we have space to work through whatever our limitations are so that when we come together, we can still be a team.

Duke and the Duchess of Sussex are surely in love, that shows and they are blessed to have found each other in this.  But let’s not compare ourselves to them.  Let’s not pretend that Meghan “lucked out” when she married Harry, because she is yet to prove that she can stomach all the restrictions that come with her role: the one she married into.

My concern with the messages I see all over social media is that we are creating a fake standard for what ordinary people, women, relationships should look and feel like.  There is nothing wrong to aspiring to marry well or into a royal family if that is what you truly desire, but let’s not pretend that anyone, regardless of their fame, has a better life just because they have status and money.  Granted, this is not true for people who are in a “survival” mode, but it is for everyone else who makes a decent living – because happiness, that’s not something money and fame can buy.

I think we often miss the blessings in our lives because we watch TV more than we mingle with real people.  It’s a form of escapism that I think doesn’t do us good on a long run because we have unrealistic expectations that cause us to feel bad about things that are actually good.  There is a fashion designer/youtuber who did an experiment with real people and had them pose like models in magazines.  Not one of those woman could actually physically make the pose they saw in the magazine.  Other words, we are attuning out eyes to visions that are not possible for us and then we use that to turn on ourselves.

How about we try being wise enough to detach from the buzz, appreciate what we have, and create what we really want.  Be better than you were yesterday and understand that happiness comes from you and the choices you make and the life you create and not from anything you see on social media or TV.

 

Royal Wedding – Access to my World

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I woke up this morning to take care of my younger son while my husband took our older to his theater class.  Of course, as soon as I was conscious, I wanted to watch the Royal Wedding.  I know opinions on this are mixed: majority of people will be glued to the screen and some will inevitably not care.  Wherever you are about it is right, I suppose.  Inevitably we all have a view on it and that’s just how it goes with royals, celebrities and people who seem to be the ones setting the trends for all the others.

I grew up in a small country and my mom was well known in my early years – all until I left to study in America at the age of 16.  Somehow being around artists, musicians, writers and other celebrities of my home land had me feel both entitled to mingle in those circles but also living in pretense that I don’t really want that kind of life.  Moving to USA where I was nobody was a rude awakening, I was no longer known as my mother’s daughter but an immigrant who worked hard for everything in life.  While I had a life of a privilege at home, in New York City all my special talents were nothing in comparison to all the talented people who lived here.  None the less, I can’t say I didn’t succeed, I got my Master Degree, studied numerous spiritual disciplines from yoga, mediation and Reiki and was in leadership training where  I was highly effective.  In fact, I felt like I was a front runner in most of what I did, so when I got married a little over 6 years ago, I was even courageous enough to start my own life coaching business.

People I knew for those 2 decades of living in the USA were amazed by my results and I am sure some of my friends from Montenegro.  After slowing down a tiny bit to birth and raise my two boys, I felt ready to scale my business feeling like I knew a thing or two about how to create your own happiness in life.  And then, on my 40th birthday my dad had a stroke at the age of 61.  I began to see how success and failure, happiness and loss were so intertwined that it was difficult to isolate which one of those experiences vibrates the strongest so that I can fully honor it and move through it.  Luckily for years of doing Vipassana’s 10 day silent meditation retreats I am able to move through the difficult parts of life, understanding that things always and continually change.  But this is where fear becomes stronger too because the more I have, the more it feels I have to lose.  I know all the moms out there can relate to this, as our fear drastically increases after we have children.

Why am I calling this blog a Royal Wedding?  Because ever since Kate Middleton, who shares my birth date, married her prince William and I married my husband Jason, I have been obsessing around what it must be like to be in her shoes, to be a royal. Of course, I was uncomfortable with my obsession, even envy, so I tried to set it aside, push it down and not worry about it.  I clearly remember in one of the moms’ groups how many moms were doing the same thing: looking at their kids age and comparing it with George and Charlotte.  Yet, when William and Kate had their third child, I realized, the similarities in our stories are no more and it was time to move on.  That is when Meghan Markle came along – a true American success story, the modern life fairy tale.  Here she was, someone who began to succeed in Hollywood, stands up for woman’s rights and is now marrying a prince.

For days, or even weeks, I tried to not think about it but I was truly uncomfortable, so much so, I even told my husband I wanted to explore my jealousy once and for all.  Watching numerous TV interviews and commentaries on the subject didn’t help either: words like: American, commoner, royal, princess, were all doing a number on me and I couldn’t quite let it simmer enough to see the wisdom that it could bring.  I truly believe that anything we feel, any strong emotion is here to tell us something and that the way to hear it is to be willing to explore it and be with it.  I don’t think people should act out of emotions, on contrary, but I do feel emotions are necessary and full of lessons we need to learn to move forward in life.

Everyone had an opinion about the royal wedding, I even saw titles where people go as far as predicting if this marriage would last or not, when the baby will be born, will Meghan be able to sustain the pressure, but also the boring aspects of the life she is about to embark on.  The more I saw, the more I realized that what we think we know and see and the life they really lead are not one and the same.  Biographies, even when they written in partnership with the person who is a subject are never objective and I believed Prince Harry when he said in an interview: “people think they know us, but they have no idea.” When I recently watched documentaries on Princess Diana, I was shocked that she didn’t seem more confident, outspoken and extrovert given the way people spoke of her.  And also, the scandals over the years with royal family were mind boggling to me drawing me more and more into the life of people I actually will never even know.IMG_6795

All that aside, my discomfort over the past few days in anticipation of the royal wedding was growing.  I couldn’t help but feel encouraged by a story of possibility: a young girl born in LA, already divorced and 36 is about to enter royal family.  Perhaps now all the issues that she deeply cares about will be that much closer to being resolved as she now has a platform, popularity and the means to attend to them.  How amazing that must be to get married not just for love but for the mission that you have in the world, I thought.  And then, the envy hit me again.  It hit me hard.  I discussed it with my husband too and tried to use my own coaching training to get to the bottom of it.  I will never forget a relative who once told me that jealousy was a low vibration feeling and I remember I instantly started pretending I wasn’t jealous.  My mother would call me on it, even make fun of me for it, but deep inside, this wasn’t a laughing matter to me – I actually felt the pain.  And then I realized:  the way out is through, let me let myself allow this.

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I turned on the Royal Wedding.  I so wanted to be there, to be a part of it, to be in Meghan’s shoes only to feel what it must be like to live a kind of life where you truly bust through limitations of the mind, the so-called “upper limits.”  I was hanging out with my younger one, both of us congested, with runny noses, watching the rerun.  Interesting phenomenon, the more I was letting myself be jealous and leaned into the pain I felt about it, the more I started grieving my own lost opportunities.  Suddenly, the finger that was pointing at the royal family, began to point at me and looking with eyes open wide at what I am doing with my life.  I felt  desperate at first: I am 40, I am happily married and love my husband and my 2 boys, what is it that I am still longing for?  I wanted the attention, the status, the privilege and the more I allowed myself to want it, the more my life looked like I can never get to it.

As Meghan walked down the aisle and the camera showed the picture of her mom crying, I felt the emotions of change, letting go to receive, growth, life.  Suddenly, I no longer witnessed royals and celebrities but people and then I didn’t see anyone at all, I saw myself and my desires to contribute, to be more and do more.  Instantly, I allowed myself to melt into that everything I see is my own creation and it had me feel deep in my bones that whatever people say or think about me – which often stopped me dead in my tracks – is really their own creation.  I was free.  I am free.  I can’t be 30 again, I can’t change who I am or the life I led so far, but I can make the most out of what is left.  After all, this is what I tell all of my clients and was brutally humbled into feeling it myself.

I could’ve waited to write this blog another day, spent time perfecting it, but I realized, it is when we wait that we experience life passing us by.  After watching a royal wedding today, I got reminded that we create our life and our own modern fairy tale every day and if there is something we can do to move through our emotions, to speak our minds, that we should not wait another second to do that.

To all of you who read messy blog, and regardless of how you feel about the royal wedding, what do you now want to do that you absolutely don’t want to put off?

Clean Slate

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Doesn’t it feel sometimes like life is coming at us at the speed of light?  So much information out there, so much to process, review, consider, choose from.  Which way should one go?

I constantly work on taking some time to myself to decide what matters and what I want to focus on because then I have to power to scan opportunities for what is in sync with what I said I wanted.  Not having done this work leaves me vulnerable to bombarding of information that happens all the time.  This isn’t wrong, we are all competing in this world for attention and a chance to have a voice about something, to leave an impact.  I just have it that it will only get louder so it is my job to create safe spaces where I can be with myself, access the divine within me and then act from there.

Often times people argue that we should just let ourselves be, go with the flow, respond to things in life as they come.  This is their right.  It doesn’t work for me though.  Just couple of weeks ago in a parenting class, I heard that one of the constructive ways to tell a child to STOP running is to tell them to USE their walking feet.  Or instead of telling them to STOP talking or being loud to USE their whispering voice.  It would probably take me decades to come up with these positive reinforcement strategies whereas people who’ve been educators for years learn them and use them and are effective with children because of it.

Expecting of myself to just go with a flow, be unprepared, not self reflect or plan ahead is actually a huge set up for failing in life and in addition, being hard on myself for reasons that are not even justified.

Everything in life, when studied, researched and explored can be simplified and broken down into distinctions, and not to rob us of freedom but to guide us through it with more clarity, wisdom and power.

I realize, as I am getting older, there are distinctions in everything people do and can be successful at, so why not stop, reset, re-evaulate what we really care about and then take on the things we really want with all of our being, learn the distinctions and practice until we master it?

There is nobody else coming! This is it! The time is now. What do you really want that is worth stepping back, learning about and giving your life to?

 

 

Judgements

adorable-beautiful-blur-573263I consider my culture to be one of the most judgmental in the world.  Coming to America at the age of 16 blew my mind – I realized, people didn’t tell you in your face how your shoes are uncool, you shouldn’t wear white socks or that you look chubby.  For the most part, everyone was minding their own business, in some ways probably hoping that their own inadequacies were not going the be exposed the same way they weren’t exposing other people’s.

Most people, me included, have fallen for an idea of “I am just telling you the truth” as a smoke screen for telling insulting stuff and being downright judgmental.  It is ok, I find, to tell someone who is asking you if the dress fits well on them to let them know that it does not, but I think it’s awful to walk up to someone and comment that their other dress looked a lot better on them than the one they are wearing.

I once criticized a student movie in my film class thinking I am pointing the obvious.  I will never forget my professor telling me:  “Marija, what do you really think?” and everybody laughing.  So many people were uncomfortable when I was releasing my judgements that this question cut through and gave sort of a comic relief.  I wished I could take it back or at least explain: this is how I was criticized all the time.

My body recorded all of these judgements and responded by slouching, looking down and feeling heaviness in my shoulders, shame in my heart.  I spent, oh God, so many hours undoing what has been done to me through transformation, reiki, sound healing, yoga, meditation, body talk, emotional healing, and alike.  Sometimes I wake up in a morning and I feel how high maintenance I am – I wonder why other people don’t take up so much space, self-analyze like I do and work so hard on staying present and in their power.  But then it’s obvious, those that don’t, live the kind of life I am not committed to living and the rest do the same thing I do, if not more.

A couple of decades ago, this generous man in Florida taught me this: “Live and let live!”  I will always remember this.  Coupled with my Landmark training where I officially had to give up gossiping and got crystal clear that everything I am complaining about is only hurting me, there is a strong sense of judgement is no good.

Boggles my mind how prominent this is in all cultures, not just my native one.  How come?  Why do people get so obsessive with their view of the world and how the fuck do they justify that their view is THE view?  Maybe it doesn’t matter.  What if we have to stop believing that someone else’s judgement of us is about us and not about them.  When we stop judging ourselves, all the mental chatter will clear.

 

 

Curiosity or Being Nosy

I would love to hear from you: what are the most offensive questions people ask you? What are the questions that people ask that leave you feeling annoyed? What are the questions that you have a ready answer for because you know people will interrogate?
I truly believe that how we react to others is about us not about them, but I wonder what is driving nosiness that is closeted as curiosity.  I wonder, because when asked the following questions, I don’t really have an experience that people are interested in me, but rather that they are going through the laundry list of questions that borderline offensive.
Did you lose/gain some weight?
Are you going to go for a girl?
How much money can you make with that?
Why is your husband (fill in the blank)?
Is your son….?
Are you still breastfeeding?
How long do you plan on breastfeeding?
When will your book come out?
How long have you been working on it/that?
The one about having a girl is my favorite. I am a happily married woman with 2 beautiful children (precisely what I wanted for myself) and while I wanted to have a girl, shortly after realizing I wasn’t having a girl, I closed that chapter.  I simply realized that no 2 kids are alike and that having 2 children is what I wanted, that gender preference, while I am sure many had it, is an unfair demand to have.  In fact, I think it’s perfect I am a mom of 2 boys because I have studied relationship and men for quite some time before getting married and in some ways, watching the world through my boys’ eyes is completing this research for me.  I am able to understand men in a way I couldn’t until I was able to picture that every one of the men I know was once a little boy.  That gave me perspective I never thought of.
To ask me if I will “chase a girl” as some would tell me is even rude because I just turned 40 and after my second pregnancy, I was recommended not to get pregnant again.  I didn’t have issues, but I could’ve and that was a scary thought.  To think that my ambition to have a girl could in any way jeopardize my health and leave my 2 already existing children without a mother is a narrow minded proposition at best.  Besides, I have friends who have little girls so when I want to play with one, I can, I don’t have to commit to raising her.
I am not sharing this because I am bitter, I am not.  In fact, I am committed to not being triggered by anything that people ask because when I am, I gave them my power.  But I wanted to share this experience to underline that asking a serious of stupid questions like this is not about intimacy or getting closer to someone but more like interrogation that I don’t think most of us appreciate.  You can be curious without being nosy.
Please share with me what are some of the questions people ask of you that sting you?  And please, share this post with a friend so I can hear from them too.
Love,
Marija

Looking at the Past

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I’ve met a lot of people who were repulsed by self-analysis of any kind and generally disliked looking back or rehashing the past as they would say.

Past is the past, it happened, we can’t change it, why bother…

Well, there is a big reason to look at the past.  In looking back, we get to re-examine if what we think happened is really what happened.  Sometimes merely looking back from the perspective of an adult, we can have a refreshing view on something that our parents did, for example. I remember when I did my first Landmark Forum in 2005, the leader asked those of us whose parents were under 24 when we were born to stand up.  So we did.  Even in merely admitting how young my parents were when I was born, I stopped holding so much resentment towards some of the choices they have made that affected me. Same happened to all the other people in the seminar.

Often, just merely looking back, or talking about what happened, can uncover that some of the things we could swear to be true don’t make any sense at all.  After my father passed 2 months ago now, I remember my mom saying something that I remembered to be true except, my timeline was off.  Literally, in that instant of us talking about something that happened, I got to rewrite my story.

Certain things come with a lesson we may have missed the first time around.  I could never figure out why I was trying to diet so much in my 20s when I looked so beautiful and lean in all my pictures, I realized though, I wasn’t dieting because I didn’t look good when I saw myself in a mirror but as a reaction to a comment someone made to me: “You will be fat like my mom and aunt when you grew up”.  For all I know, he meant it as a joke, but it had me choose dieting and being skinny over life for at least 7 years while I was battling eating disorder and another decade or so of dieting and thinking I would only be accepted if I was skinny enough.

Looking back is not a waste of time, people!  It can prevent us from making the same mistakes again and again.  It can shine the light on things we couldn’t or didn’t understand at the time and offer a much needed relief.  This is actually why therapy works.  While I prefer coaching to therapy as it is focused more on producing results, I definitely see so much value in talking things over and letting myself share the world the way I see it so I can sort out things that I couldn’t sort out when I was younger and question things that I made up.

It’s true that we can’t change the past and that no looking back can ever have what happened be any other way than the way that it is.  What we could change, however, is the stories we told when those things happened because all of us mostly living as a reaction to the story we told about the things that happened to us.  Change your story, change your life.  Looking at the past is an opportunity to directly impact our experience in the present and have a different future.

“When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”              Wayne Dyer 

Love only. Compassion. Gratitude

I feel that in life, we often deal with some things over and over again.  I used to think this was wrong and beat myself up for things that resurface, but over time, I realized, this is just how life rolls.  We always have the same set of issues, but if we work on it, we get to take a deeper cut.  The deeper we go and the more we work on it, the more we expand our foundation, the more is possible for us and, as the consequence, we feel more joy.

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My father’s passing almost 2 months ago now, disturbed the calm waters of my life.  I was used to my father not being around, in fact, it is only after 20+ years that we restored our relationship to intimate connection and love that father-daugther relationships are usually made of.  That said, in May of last year, as I travelled to Paris for the first time, and my father happened to drive in to pick up his youngest son and drive him home to Croatia at the same time. I have fallen back into the pattern of expecting things of him like I did when I was a little girl all the way until I got married.  I forgot that the only way to have my father do something for me was to make sure he was aware of how much that mattered to me.  That worked 3 years ago when he drove down to Montenegro and met my younger son.  This time around, I didn’t want to do work to convince him to see me.  I wanted him to want it and do work for it.  And, he didn’t.

I reached out to him a few times over the summer and then I stopped trying.  On New Year’s Day, I received a message from him with greetings for the upcoming year.  I wished him the same with the picture of my family.  He wrote: “it is beautiful to see you all.”  A little more than a week later, on my 40th birthday, at 6pm New York time, I learned my father had a stroke.  He never woke up from it.

I am not going to lie to say that I didn’t think I’d be prepared for this.  Our relationship was way less than I think I ever deserved and I worked very hard throughout my life to feel deeply deserving of love, attention and commitment of another man because I never had that from my dad.  It was almost 8 years ago that I wrote an email t my dad in complete desperation to hear words of encouragement.  His response was that he wasn’t a good person to ask and the rest of the email was filled with his joyful sharing of the attention he was giving to his 2 boys from his second marriage.  In that moment, I realized, I would never have a father that I wanted. I stopped expecting things. And, even though I trained myself to not want more from him, I was always happy when he was in touch and he had power to provide me with so much joy with every bit of attention he gave me.

My dad dying shook me.  It was final.  I didn’t even get a chance to tell him I became an American citizen (his life long dream was to come here), because I had my Oath Ceremony just days after his brain was dead.  His heart was beating few days longer as if to buy me some time to get my passport and fly to attend his funeral.

Coming to Zagreb after 30 years was traumatic.  I went straight to the house where I used to visit him and his wife and sons were out visiting friends.  They knew I was coming but I guess it didn’t matter.  Thank God for an amazing friend I have who now lives in Zagreb who hosted me, fed me and offered a shoulder to cry on.  I spent more money on going to my father’s funeral than I remember him ever spending on me (this, of course, triggers the memory of unworthiness because he fought hard, and indirectly, not to pay for child support).

The past few weeks of my life felt like a cosmic joke.  My husband and I were interviewed couple dozen times because we hoping to put our older child in a private school in September.  Of course, we were not stupid, we applied to more than 1o private schools, that many public and numerous charter schools throughout the city.  Applying for financial aid in order to get into private school had me think about money a lot, realizing, I want to be earning way more than I do right now.  I made peace with slowing down with my business to roll with raising my two boys, but when I realized I was done birthing, I was itching to get out there, to impact more people and expand my reach.

I would gain some momentum then kids would get sick or something would happen to have me go back to square one.  At some point I did so many facebook lives but the criticism of it had me back down.  I couldn’t help but be self-conscious.  I understand that what I do is not everyone’s cup of tea but when a few people have a negative response, it’s tough for me to go on.  This isn’t new, my shaky relationship with my own self-esteem has obviously had something to do with it.

I was looking for perfection in everything I did.  I went too far experimenting with my own weight.  Since I became a teenager, I was either on diet or skipping meals until I did a stupid Atkins diet in year 2000 that had me restrict carbs.  I will never forget that on the 13th day of restricting carbs, I lost it.  I was interning for the sound post production company and the kitchen there was filled with all kinds of cookies and junk for the people who spent hours working.  I couldn’t stop eating, which led to me being so full that I had to purge to prevent myself rom bursting.  Before I knew it, this became a pattern.

I was ashamed to ask for help so I struggled for years to come.  I was skinny and miserable.  My eating disorder was a way I punished my body for not obeying, for being too curvy and not allowing me to eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it.  I worked so hard that this practice allowed me to have a sense of control in the places where us, women, usually don’t have it.  I got a handle on it in 2005 when I did transformational work, Reiki and began to listen to my own inner voice about who I was and what I wanted.  I relapsed for years after that but I was strong enough to always get back on the horse when I fell down from it.  I remember telling my dad about my struggle and him telling me to just stop doing it.  Somehow, I also thought that this was my fault, that I this time of my life was wasted, that I was wasteful and stupid for being sick.

Almost a decade later, and after spending over $30K on fixing my teeth, I feel like I am still blaming that little 20 year old Marija for being so stupid to numb her feelings with food, for spending so much time being sick and not asking for proper support and guidance.  In fact, as I decided to fix the aesthetics of my front teeth so that every time I smile I don’t think how thin my front teeth are and feel shame of it all over again, all of this came to the surface.  Restricting food (with all the dental work, I am pretty much on the soup and soft food diet) is likewise triggering in me the desire to give in, to give up, to relapse, to loose myself again in the binge so that I can numb the overwhelming emotions that are resurfacing.

What saddens me the most right now as I am writing this is how uncomfortable I am with appearing weak, with vulnerably sharing my struggle and needing support.  I think this is a problem with our society, people move on, they forget to ask, we are all expected that old troubles don’t bother us anymore.  Slowly, everyone is forgetting to ask if I am still grieving my dad.  Surely, many people that knew about my eating disorder probably just assume that I don’t think about it anymore just because I don’t purge or go on binges.    But, this is all not people’s fault.  It is us, me, who don’t ask for help when we need it.  Being criticized is one of my biggest triggers which is why, in the past, I always opted to restrict the information I give.  I worry about what other people think and say, so in the process, I mold myself to fit in.  It’s an old pattern that every now and then I fall back into.  This is why I am writing this.  I am not complaining, I am not even sharing it to get points, I am sharing the process.  Working with people in the past decade had me see that nobody is immune to this.  We all have things come up and then those of us who are committed to having great lives clear it and those that are not, ignore it.  Either way, things come up and every time they do, they come up faster and stronger at us, which makes sense, because we are stronger too.

In a face of everything new I want to create, my insecurity will come up to bite me in the ass.  I will then remember that my father did the best he knew to do and will allow to feel his energy all around me supporting whatever it is I am up to.  And regardless of how much I feel that my dental work is punishment for my eating disorder, I will find compassion for doing the best I could at the time to numb the overwhelming emotions that took me years to be able to feel, claim, allow and make right.  I will remember my mom’s words: “teeth can be fixed,” and I will go on to fixing what I can for as long as I live.  Expansion is only possible when are moving through it, when we are playing games that are big enough that we can see everything that isn’t a match for who we need to be to win them.  Love only.  Compassion.  Gratitude.