The Irony of My New Tattoo

The first time I went to the Boston Tattoo Convention, I went only partially prepared. I wanted a tattoo, and had a hand-drawn design with me, but I didn't book an artist ahead of time. Instantly overwhelmed by the sights and sounds - a tattoo convention is some serious sensory overload - I walked around for a while, taking it all in. Each artist booth had a little sign up that either said "I have openings" or "I am booked". So, I started seeking out an artist with availability. I found an artist whose portfolio included styles of tattoos similar to the design I had drawn. He had a hat on backwards, friendly eyes, a full beard, and a charming smile. He reminded me of an ex-boyfriend, and you know, these are the important things when looking for a tattoo artist. Appearance aside, his portfolio was impressive and I anticipated that this tattoo artist could only improve on what I had drawn. He was busy tattooing so I spoke with his assistant - a spunky girl with over-sized gold hoop earrings, extra long coffin-style nails, and a ponytail with full golden curls piled on top of her head. I handed over my drawing and she showed it to him. He gave a nod and a smile, had her take a picture of it, and I booked some time for the following day. I spent that night stalking his Instagram page, reassuring myself that I had chosen a quality artist. And making sure I wasn't just sold on his looks!

I made my way to his booth the following day, full of both anxiety and confidence. When I arrived, he greeted me kindly enough, yet seemed busy and tired. It was the afternoon of the last day of the convention. Tattoo guns buzzing. There's music blaring. People everywhere. I can only imagine what it's like to spend three days in that environment. As I sat down with him, I realized he hadn't taken a second look at my drawing. He pulled out a tablet and took a few minutes to redraw my design. He drew up most of it and then said, "I'll do that part by hand, if that's okay?" and went on to describe what he had in mind for a particular feature. I agreed. I trusted him. He's an artist after all. And you should have seen his charming, friendly-looking face! If he was confident enough to freehand a tattoo, in the presence of a constant flow of spectators, why shouldn't I trust him? 

It did not occur to me that there may have been some unexpected influences on my psyche. Sure, his looks got my attention but that really wasn't driving my decision-making. I am highly sensitive though - sensitive to my surroundings, sensitive to other people's feelings, among other things. In that moment, it wasn't registering that sensory overload could have been clouding my judgement and my ability to think clearly. Plus, the bustling atmosphere didn't lend itself to patience or careful decision-making. And I never considered what it would be like to navigate the necessary interactions involved in getting a tattoo, especially in the chaotic environment of a convention. 

I was feeling bold, impulsive, rebellious and I was committed to being excited about the experience. I felt confident in my decision and was ready to get this tattoo on my forearm. It was a simple design with a lot of meaning. I had recently come out on the other side of a tough, transformative time in my life and this tattoo served as a visual reminder of that feeling of triumph, as well as a reminder for future times of struggle. It included an arrow, and a quote: "The best way out is through". Half of the words sat above the arrow line and half sat underneath; then an infinity loop intersecting the arrow line. 

He put the finishing touches on to the drawing on the tablet - it was the infinity loop he was going to do by hand. He asked for my approval every step of the way, and I gave it. He printed the design from the tablet and transferred the stencil to my skin. Once it was transferred to my skin, I noticed some asymmetry. The distance between the words and the arrow line was off a bit - the words below the line were a little closer to the line than the words above it. I also did not love the size ratio of the words to the rest of the design. These were the details that differed in the otherwise identical design to the one I had drawn. The stencil was on my skin but he hadn't started tattooing yet. I knew I wasn't 100% satisfied with the design, yet, I replied with a cheery, confident, "Yup!", when the artist asked me if I was ready before he took the tattoo gun to my forearm.

Buzz. Vibration. Heat. Not quite pain. Some adrenaline. 

He looked up at me with that smile, "You good?"

"Yup! Doesn't hurt at all!" 

He went back to work and did the freehand infinity symbol last. I watched intently as he swept the tattoo gun across my forearm. What he described - a faded loop that would be a backdrop to the words of the quote - seemed like a beautiful idea. I was instantly disappointed with the outcome though. It just wasn't what I had in mind. But it was done. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it at that point.

Was it terrible? No. Did he do anything I did not agree to? No. Did I regret my tattoo? Not quite regret. Was I 100% satisfied with my new tattoo? Sadly, no. Did I express anything other than gratitude and happiness? Nope! My satisfaction level was at a solid 80%. But that 20% of disappointment had me googling things like "tattoo regret", "tattoo removal", and "new tattoo anxiety" when I got home. The googling gave me comfort knowing I was not the only one that had these feelings, that I had options if my satisfaction level continued to dip, and based on some accompanying "tattoo regret" photos, it could be much, much worse!

This feeling of dissatisfaction and low-grade panic lasted a few days, maybe a week, until I realized I did not want to keep obsessing and had to somehow accept the reality of it: I had a tattoo, on my arm, that I did not love. I loved what it represented - the original reason I got the tattoo. I had to let go of the design flaw though, so it also quickly became a lesson in living with imperfection. It also made me realize something else... 

There were indeed unexpected influences on my psyche that day. The truth is, I did not say anything when I noticed the issues I had with the design because I did not want to annoy him, I did not want to insult his skills, I felt bad, I told myself, it's not that big of a deal and it's fine. Ouch. Tough reality to swallow, and one I could only realize in retrospect. The sensory overload and the impromptu design decisions triggered a very old, deeply ingrained habit of people-pleasing. I got the tattoo as reminder of some recent lessons learned and I never could have anticipated that the experience of getting the tattoo itself would bring a new lesson to light. I tend to have a "live and learn" kind of attitude though, so within a few weeks, I found peace with the design and the experience as a whole.

Then the SAME EXACT THING HAPPENED AGAIN THIS YEAR! There may have been some improvement in my awareness of my people-pleasing issues, but overall, it may have turned out worse. Or it turned out perfectly. I am not sure.

When I was at the convention looking for an artist to do that forearm tattoo, I saw a lot of other amazing tattoo artists who were booked all weekend. I made note of a few and started following them on Instagram. When they announced the 2019 Boston Tattoo Convention, I decided I was ready for another tattoo and now I knew what to expect - of myself, of the environment and of a busy tattoo artist. I was going fully prepared this time. I looked up the artists I had my eye on the year prior. There was a female artist whose work I really liked so I contacted her a few weeks prior to the convention and booked a time with her. She had me send her a description and some references for the design I wanted. I had drawn something up myself again - and again assumed the artist would improve on what I had done. She asked me if I wanted her to use my design or if I wanted her to draw something up herself. I asked her to take everything I sent her and draw something up. The work she had online was beautiful and much of her work included the type of symbolism and style I wanted in this tattoo. She explained that she wouldn't be able to send me the design ahead of time but that I would, of course, be able to review and request any changes before she tattooed it. I trusted her, and I trusted myself to make sure I was happy with the design before committing. After all, I didn't want a repeat of last time.

My appointment was on a Sunday afternoon - the afternoon of the last day of the convention. When I arrived, the artist greeted me kindly enough but seemed busy and tired. She was petite with dark brown bangs swept to the side, and lots of piercings, including a barbell sitting on the bridge of her nose right between her eyes. She didn't say anything as she pulled out a drawing and handed it to me to review. It was essentially the drawing I had done, with some slight but significant differences. I was instantly disappointed. 

My response flashed through my mind, yet never made it out of my mouth: You made a point to say, 'either I can use your drawing or I'll draw something up off your references'. I could have improved on my own design but thought you might come up with something more interesting. Instead, you drew a less symmetrical, incomplete version of my own design.

Instead, with a smile, I said: "Thank you for using the design I sent you!" 

Was it the music, the people, the buzz that was clouding my judgement - again? Or was it my people-pleasing ways, taking over - again? 

She cracked a smile but didn't say anything as I handed her back the drawing. She taped it on to my shoulder to make sure the size and placement was right. 

I looked in a mirror, and then looked at her: "This looks good, right?" She agreed: "Yes, perfect." 

The size and placement were indeed perfect, but symmetry was an issue again. There was also a key element missing. I was still looking in the mirror, trying to catch any other issues I had with it. Before I said anything, she seemed to read my mind, and acknowledged the missing element: "I'm going to draw that part on to you". 

I nodded. "Okay!"

I found myself being painfully self-aware of my thought process. I had to say something about the asymmetry yet I found myself feeling nervous and anxious; worried I would come across as annoying and that it would make things awkward. I had already swallowed some disappointment, and couldn't let this go too. I pointed out the area I wanted adjusted and she agreed - she wasn't annoyed, and it wasn't awkward. 

Then I noticed another detail was off. The design included a symbolic flower that was supposed to have 16 petals - a detail that was not represented in my drawing - but it was noted in my email description. After all, my drawing was intended to be a sketch for reference, not the final design! Had I known it would be, I would have redone it. There were 12 petals on her design. I didn't say anything to her. 

I already made an issue of the symmetry. Now I will definitely be annoying if I point this out too. It's not that big of a deal. No one will notice except me. It's fine. 

These thoughts came and went so quickly in my mind. I didn't want what was happening to be happening. 

I gave her the green light to send the design to be printed onto a transfer sheet, then she transferred the stencil to my skin. She drew on the remaining elements. When she said she was finished I realized there was another thing missing! I expected it to be part of what she added by hand since it was something else that was in my email description but not in my original drawing - a tiny spider hanging from the design. This was a must and I didn't hesitate to say something this time. 

"Oh ya!" She obviously forgot. But she didn't seem annoyed, and it didn't make things awkward. 

She started to draw it on my skin with a thick marker. "I can't get it quite small enough but..." her voice trailed off and my anxiety grew. Not another freehand tattoo feature! 

I asked her for a piece of paper so I could draw what I had in mind. I sketched up the tiny spider and then she copied what I drew on to my arm with a much finer marker. 

I went and looked in the mirror one more time to make sure I was happy with the final design before she tattooed. "Good to go!"

I sat in a flimsy plastic folding chair, facing the aisle between two long rows of tattoo artist booths set up side by side, positioned for perfect people-watching while she went to work on my new shoulder tattoo. The people. The music. The buzz. The vibration. The sensory overload. I squashed all feelings of disappointment and anxiety as she asked me one more time if I was ready, and with a cheery, confident, "Yup!", she took the needle to my arm.

After some time, she asked: "How ya doing?" 

"Good! Not bad at all!" I was determined to enjoy the experience.  

After maybe an hour or so, she said she needed a bathroom break. I took this opportunity to take a few selfies of my partially done tattoo. I scrolled through the photos I took and my heart sank.

More asymmetry.

I had looked at the design multiple times. Asked for modifications. Knowingly didn't ask for some. But was horrified that there was more I didn't even notice until just then. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. It was an area that had already been inked.

FUCK.

How did this happen - AGAIN?

I couldn't accept the reality in that moment. I wanted so badly to be thrilled with my new tattoo. Without much effort, I again completely denied myself any feelings of disappointment. She returned quickly, and I proceeded to enjoy the people watching, the music and the buzz.

When she was done with the tattoo, we both took some photos - she took some with my phone and then she took a handful with her phone. She wrapped up my tattoo, I paid her, tipped her, told her I loved it - not an inkling of disappointment to be found in those final moments. I couldn't bear it. I was having an ideal tattoo experience, regardless of the reality.

I got home, was enjoying the fabricated feeling of satisfaction, and was flipping through the photos on my phone. HOLY SHIT. She forgot to finish the tattoo. There is shading in some areas and she did not finish the shading in one section!

Photos don't lie. This shook me out of my curated delight and I felt heavy with layers of built up disappointment and maybe even some embarrassment. I wanted to cry. 

I found myself thinking, It's fine. It's not that big of a deal. But quickly, my mind shouted at me, SHE DIDN'T FINISH THE TATTOO! THAT IS NOT FINE! Thank you, mind, for shouting. 

I emailed her at that moment, knowing there wouldn't be an opportunity to have it fixed by her until next year, assuming she returned to Boston. She works out of New York and LA. I sent her the photo that SHE took... and chose my words carefully: "I just noticed there are a few spots where the shading was forgotten!" It was a conscious choice to avoid a blaming statement like, "I just noticed you forgot the shading in a few spots!" I didn't want to be annoying. I went on to ask if she would take care of it if she came back to Massachusetts. Without an apology or any acknowledgement of the huge error, she replied, "Of course! Most definitely!" And agreed that she would fix it when she was back in the area and would keep me posted on the dates.

Was the tattoo terrible? No. Did she do anything I did not agree to? No. Did I regret my tattoo? Not quite regret. Was I 100% satisfied with my new tattoo? Sadly, no. Did I express anything other than gratitude and happiness? Nope! I decided on an 80% satisfaction level - again. But that 20% of disappointment had me googling things like "tattoo regret", "tattoo removal", and "new tattoo anxiety." Again.

Part of this shoulder tattoo included the symbol for the throat chakra. Here are the qualities of a balanced throat chakra: 

"The gift of this chakra is accepting your originality, expressing your authentic voice and speaking your truth. It is the way of standing up for what you believe, saying no when you need to, and being open and honest in what you say." (https://www.chakra-anatomy.com/throat-chakra.html) 

Did I include this symbol because I felt like mine was perfectly balanced? Absolutely not. I included it because it is an area where I have done a ton of healing and have more to do - clearly!

SPEAK YOUR TRUTH. STAND UP FOR WHAT YOU BELIEVE. SAY NO. BE OPEN AND HONEST.

HA.

There is much more to the tattoo but that throat chakra symbol is literally and figuratively at the center of it. 

I am not sure I can say which had more of an influence on how I handled this situation - the distractions of the bustling environment or my people-pleasing ways. My thoughts were telling me I was disappointed and that I wanted to rework the design yet my words and facial expressions conveyed satisfaction. I did not tell the truth. I did not stand up for what I believed. I said yes when I really meant no. And for what? These tattoo artists walk away with money and thinking they have another satisfied customer. And I walk away with two less than ideal tattoos. I got the tattoos for deeply personal reasons and the original meaning has only been magnified by the experiences of getting them. 

I can't help but wonder what the experience was for those tattoo artists. Neither said much to me. Were they wondering what I was thinking, and if I was happy with their work? Were they genuinely satisfied with their work on me? Would a tattoo artist admit if they fucked up, especially in the subtle ways I noticed on mine? Is it possible that we were both noticing the same asymmetries and such, at the same time, and both thinking, fuck, too late? I have considered emailing the artist that did the second tattoo again and pointing out all of the other flaws, in addition to the shading she forgot. Would a tattoo artist want to know how someone like me feels about the experience? Maybe she'll come across this essay some day. 

It's summer now, and I rock both tattoos proudly. Every so often I look really closely at them and I shake my head at myself, let out a sigh, and even a little laugh. What else can I do? 

Misery loves company?

Why does it seem like it's more common and socially acceptable to mope around saying "fuck my life" and complaining than it is to express gratitude and celebrate life?

I'm fortunate to say that I have been on both sides of this coin. And I recognize that my perception of what seems common and socially acceptable may be influenced by my own comfort/discomfort in expressing myself. 

I have been thinking a lot lately about how to express my gratitude though. Why don't I know how to express gratitude?  Sure, I can say "thank you!" But this does not come close to conveying the depth of the feeling I have. I guess I can say, "I am so grateful...".  But this too doesn't quite seem to be enough. Gifts? No. Cards? No. Ummm. I got nothing. 

Through discussions about this, I've been given the suggestion to say what I can say ("thank you", "I am so grateful"...) but even more powerful is to pay it forward. What I mean by pay it forward is... to think about the things that I am so grateful for and do what I can to provide the same for other people. While I still feel like this doesn't quite give the credit due for what I feel, I do think it is a powerful way to fully appreciate the level of gratitude inside of me. 

I have also been thinking about how to express my excitement about my life "politely".  I have been conditioned to feel like this kind of expression is considered bragging, or makes me conceited, or inconsiderate of other peoples' situations. Yet, I don't worry about the same sorts of things when it comes to complaining or being down on myself. For this reason, I tend to downplay things I have going on in my life. While I am rather humble by nature, I find myself at times consciously keeping exciting news about myself to myself. 

I also recognize that my perceptions are fed by my experiences and are not true for everyone. I have had a lot of different experiences though, and while this seems to be true a lot of the time, it is certainly not true all of the time. What I have found is that the more I express whatever it is that I am feeling - positive or negative - I am able to evaluate the social situations I put myself in; and which ones I prefer and which I don't. From there I can begin to craft a social life that is supportive and equally celebratory. 

Now, I get that crafting a new social life, if desired, is not an easy thing to do. It is possible though. Read a little bit about how to find your tribe and how to handle it when the people in your life don't get you.

It seems we live in a culture that thrives on negativity - from what is covered in the news, to how common gossip is, to the reality that the cliche saying even exists - "misery loves company". And how about the fact that most people are more comfortable viewing media showing murder and rape than they are breast-feeding and sex for pleasure? Don't get me started.. that is a whole different story for another day!

My point is, I would love it if more people got on board with expressing gratitude and celebrating life.  I suppose the social media trends of 100 days of happiness and gratitude challenges are a start but why not challenge yourself and others to find happiness and gratitude in ALL of the days?

I could have died...

Death isn't a very fun topic. Who likes to think about dying? Not me. Many people, myself included for a long time, go through life thinking we are immortal, along with everyone we love. I think sometimes worse than thinking of our own death, is thinking about living through the death of someone you love. But even so, as we all know, death is our inevitable fate.

While I feel grateful that I haven't had much experience living through the death of loved ones, I have felt face to face with my own mortality on a few occassions. Not just once, not even twice but there have been at least four experiences that when I look back, I think either "I could have died..." or "I thought I was going to die." Added to this have been feelings of guilt and sadness for putting my loved ones through the experience of also thinking I could have died. 

I share this story because it has taken these experiences, among other, mostly negative experiences to develop a strong sense of gratitude, spirituality, connection to myself and the world around me as well as acceptance of mortality. These experiences have kind of shoved me on to this path of an unconventional life. I say shove because it's taken a lot to get me out of a dimly lit, curtained way of living to a brightly lit, open way of living. And of course, it has also prompted me to work on finding comfort or at least acceptance, rather than fearing the death of both myself and my loved ones. So I share to help people understand my journey, but also to inspire someone to find their way by learning from me rather than learning on their own, the hard way, like I did. 

Scars

The first time I feel like I could have died, I was 16 years old. As a story like this one usually goes, it was a typical weekend night, hanging out at a friends house with my two best friends at the time. On our way home, driving through a busy four-way intersection, another person drove through a red light, colliding with our car. I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. 

I don't remember the collision. I found out later that I had been taken to a local hospital by ambulance but then transported to a more advanced trauma center by helicopter due to the seriousness of my head injury. The first thing I remember is waking up in the hospital, not knowing what happened and hearing a doctor tell my mother I would have an eight-inch scar. With a severe concussion, I was out of it and sleeping a lot. I didn't really know what was going on for another day or two. I ended up with something like 40 stitches and 10 staples to patch up a laceration that cascaded from the crown of my head to the end of my right eyebrow, close to my temple.

All things considered, I recovered rather quickly and have had only minor lasting physical effects from this injury due to nerve damage. But alas, I had pretty bad nerve damage and for a couple of years the right side of my face, particularly my eye and eyebrow, was... droopy. Did I mention this happened the summer before my senior year of high school? Yes, so senior year of high school going into college, this is what I was dealing with. Although the nerve damage has lessened over time and my face has returned to a more symmetrical appearance, the scar remains... physically and mentally. I still experience anxiety when I am a passenger in a car. 

The Tunnel

The second time I thought I was going to die came many years later when I was probably around 26.  I was driving my black Toyota Celica through the Ted Williams tunnel, which takes you underneath downtown Boston, headed to a friends house for dinner. I don't remember it raining but it must have been because the roads were wet. Little did I know that my tires were worn. While I wasn't speeding, this combination - wet roads and bald tires - plus the winding turns of the tunnel proved to be problematic. All of a sudden, while driving through a four-lane tunnel, my little Celica started spinning around in circles, in the midst of passing cars, headed for a concrete wall. 

Somehow, some way, I did not collide with any of the passing cars and I did not collide with the concrete wall. My car came to a stop, facing the proper direction, about a foot from the wall of the tunnel, undamaged. I was not injured at all - I had been wearing my seatbelt, a lesson I already learned the hard way - but thought I must be dead. I sat in my car, looked to my right at the concrete wall that I could have touched from my seat had I been sitting on the passengers side. Looked to my left at the continuous, albeit light stream of passing cars. My heart pounding, I asked myself if I was alive. I waved off someone who had stopped behind me to check on me and continued on driving to my friends house at about 10 mph.

Earthquake

The third time I thought I could have died was a couple of years later. I was working at this job I talk about that I hated. Sitting at my desk in our 10th floor office in Cambridge, MA, behind my computer, I was probably working on some Excel report. Sometimes when people walked by my desk, I could kind of feel my cubicle wall shake a little bit. Nothing out of the ordinary. This is what I thought was happening until I looked around, no one was walking by me, and I could see all of the cubicle walls shaking and the look of confusion on everyone else's face. We were experiencing a minor earthquake. It was over in seconds and we all kind of laughed it off and went back to work.

I don't know what was going on in everyone else's mind, but after learning it was an earthquake, my immediate thought was "If I die sitting at the desk of this job, I am going to be SO MAD!".  While the actual likelihood of a major earthquake in this area is very low (I think...!), just that jolt (literally) of reality that my demise was possible while living a life I knew wasn't for me left me with an unavoidable drive to start making some changes. 

Dizzy

And now for the most recent experience that had me feeling like death was near. This was just a couple of months after I finally left my job. I had gotten to a point that while I hadn't figured it all out, I knew I could not spend another moment of my life not doing what felt right for me. And actually, as a result of the car accident that occurred when I was 16, at 30 years old, I still had some money from a lawsuit settlement. This gave me the financial freedom to quit my job without another one lined up and to take some time off to sort myself out without worrying about money for a little while. 

I had begun volunteering with school-age children helping them with their homework a few times a week and had picked up a part-time waitressing job. While getting ready for my waitressing shift one afternoon, I suddenly got extremely nauseous to the point of vomiting. I had some time so I layed down for a bit. I got up and tried to continue getting ready, only to find myself vomiting again. I called out of work and went to bed, attributing it to a stomach bug. 

Long story short, my condition worsened over the next two days. Initially, doctors thought I had vertigo but when I woke up the next morning unable to see due to rapid back and forth movement in my eyes, unable to walk with extreme dizziness, nausea and vomiting I was taken for an MRI. Doctors thought it could be a brain tumor. 

Luckily, it was not. It ended up being vestibular neuritis - a viral infection and inflammation of my inner ear and the nerves connecting my ears to my brain. The symptom was vertigo and the prognosis was unknown. They told me it could go away in a week, a month, a year or never. And there was nothing they could do other than give me what was essentially motion-sickness medication, which did not help. Now, keep in mind I had just quit my desk job and was working with children and waitressing. And I get sick with a virus that had me feeling dizzy upon walking and moving my head around. Fortunately, it slowly but surely went away over the course of about a month. 

Sadly, and honestly, it took experiences like these to move me to discover a truly fulfilling and authentic life, with a commitment to helping other people. So if you see inspirational quotes in my Facebook timeline, or you hear me talk often about how grateful I am for so many things; or you wonder why I have chosen to bare my soul and share these stories or how I have been able to make so many changes; or if you think I'm too laid back or wonder why I don't complain much... it is because I know I have a choice in how I spend the time of my life. And that that choice can be taken away at any moment by a reckless driver, a natural disaster, a sudden illness, my own reckless actions or any other number of things. That is not to say that I live my life in fear, or that anyone should live in fear of these things. But it is a reality and I'd rather accept that reality along with my own mortality and live in the way that makes the most sense to me while I have that option.

The "Career" Part...

Okay, so I have posted on this blog a few times but haven't said much about the "Unconventional career" aspect of it and have touched more on the "life" side of things.  I guess it is the kind of story that feels so long and twisty-turny that I've been putting off addressing it directly.

As with most things, I think the best thing to do is start where I am.

I am currently pursuing a life as an educator, healer, advocate and artist. More specifically, I am working on building a career as a Sex Ed Teacher, a Therapist, an Artist and a Writer. Just typing these two sentences prompts a burst of joy and gratitude inside of me.

I will be starting grad school this summer - the program is for a Masters in Education in Mental Health Counseling with a concentration in Holistic Counseling and Trauma Studies. I am currently training with a sex ed consultant and in June, I will be certified by Planned Parenthood as a Sex Educator. I have also been a Certified Rape Crisis Counselor for over 6 years. I am a pottery artist and I recently started practicing henna/mehndi designs and would love to share both of these creative aspects of myself with the world some day.

At this moment in time, my main source of income is from my position as a Group Leader for a group of first graders in an urban, community afterschool program. I could say a million wonderful things about this job but in a nutshell... it brings joy, love, gratitude, connection and lots of laughter
to my life. And who doesn't need more of that?

Here's the thing... I spent the last decade fantasizing about this life. I am 32, going on 33 this year. I graduated college in January of 2005. It's now February of 2015. Whoa. What have I been doing for the last 10 years?! To finally be able to say I am pursuing the life I want, over 30. Here's the other thing that I will be frank about. I'm not sure if being single and childless is what allowed me to get to this point or if living life aimlessly and unhappily has kept me single and childless. HMMMM!

Anyways... the point is, I was living an otherwise conventional life up until this point. Sure, I was single and childless but I did my fair share of dating and even had a couple of semi-serious relationships (under two years...).  I had a lucrative career in business/IT, with a big a paycheck and amazing benefits. I lived by myself in great apartments around metro-Boston and I traveled a lot. I was doing aright for myself.

And then I realized I wasn't aright.

So I quit my lucrative job. I moved in with roommates. I made major financial sacrifices, and thus life sacrifices. Everything changed. I got real with myself and started trying to get it right. And it has been hard.

I'm skipping a lot in between but this should be sufficient framework for the more specific vignettes I hope to share over time here!

I am...

If I asked you to write 20 "I am..." statements, focusing on personal characteristics and other identifying features of you and your life, what would you write?

The first therapist I saw 10 or 12 years ago (when I was around 20) asked me to do something like this and here is what I came up with:
1. I am worthless.
The end.

Despite the fact that I was an honors student, I was independent with a strong work ethic - working, interning and going to school - and had plenty of other qualities and aspects to my identity, I could not see any of it.

I could only go up from there, right? Fast-forward 5 years or so. This time around, I could identify aspects of myself that enticed feelings of pride and confidence but also feelings of shame and confusion. It might have looked something like this...

1. I am in a career I hate.
2. I am in a complicated relationship that makes me doubt my whole self.
3. I am a volunteer.
4. I am an aunt.
5. I am an alcoholic.
6. I am an introvert.
7. I am independent.
8. I am overweight and unhappy with the way I look.

The list would go on, with a similar mix of attributes. Definitely progress from the first time! My overall take on it at this point was... eh, things to work on, but I thought this is just what real, adult life is like.

This is around the time I came across this story about Roz Savage. I had forgotten about the "I am..." list my therapist asked me to do a decade earlier but Roz's story resonated with me so I started with what she did - I wrote two obituaries.  I wrote one based on the life I was living and another based on the life I wanted; the life I fantasized about but didn't think was possible.  I'll admit - this didn't seem helpful at first. Comparing the two was depressing. The fact was that the distance between these two lives - the one I was living and the one I wanted - felt SO FAR; immeasurable; impossible. And this is when I remembered the "I am..." list.

So I literally took an inventory of my entire existence. The more honest I was, the harder it was to look at. But I needed to get real about where I was in my life before I could do anything about it. I had spent a lot of time being in denial about my reality, thinking that magically one day my life would make sense to me. But as time went on, the disconnect grew and thus a sense of desperation.

I'll spare you the entire list but the 8 listed above are real and very much representative of it. I didn't see it as all bad news though!  The nice thing about this is that I was able to see some things that I actually liked about myself - like being an active volunteer and being independent. Other things that I wanted to get better at - like being a more engaged aunt. And then there were things like being an introvert - which I wanted to learn to accept rather than try and change. The biggies though were the things I really wanted to change or eliminate like being in a job I hated, in a confusing relationship and being an alcoholic.  I had a list though and I could identify things that I knew I could do alone and others that I'd need help with. I could see what was missing - what I wanted to add to the list but couldn't at that point in my life. I didn't give myself the option to leave things off the list. Of course I didn't want to admit my struggles with drinking but if I left it off the list, it wouldn't go away. So I added it, among other such things.

I hate to admit that it took making a literal inventory of myself to be able to identify and tackle areas that I wanted to change. It was necessary though, even critical. I had gotten so detached from my actual self that this is what it took... so what can I say.

My point in sharing this story is that of course we don't want to identify with our least desirable traits. Of course we don't want to admit our shortcomings. To do so would mean we accept them, that we succumb to them, right? Wrong. This is one very effective way to move on from them. You have to start from where you are to make a lasting change. If I'm not willing to admit that I am unhappy/in a bad relationship/an alcoholic/etc. than how would I take that first step in the right direction to make a change?

So try it, make a list. It doesn't have to be final. It does have to be honest. And comprehensive - include the good, the bad and the ugly! Having a therapist, coach, partner or close friend to help see you through this process is absolutely recommended.

Whether you like labels or not, whether you identify with every aspect of yourself or not, it is worth experimenting with and examining what you come up with. If you resist labels, you could reword statements like "I am a procrastinator" to "I am someone who puts things off until the last possible second." (This was another of mine!) The value of examining this aspect of yourself remains.

Oh, I almost forgot... you might be wondering what my list looks like today! Well if you know me, you know I have basically flipped my life upside down over the past few years. Taking an honest look at myself and my life is what prompted so many changes. So again, I'll spare you the entire list but it is important to note that there is still the good, the bad and the ugly!  It just looks different. The purpose of this is not, nor is my goal, to have a list that looks "perfect".  It is to examine your life as you evolve and keep yourself in check about what is going on in your life. "Accept your reality," as I like to tell people. You might be surprised, as I was, to see your confidence skyrocket by taking ownership of it all and not living a "selective reality", as I like to call it!

One Third Rule of Tribes

I've been listening to the Recovery 2.0: #MoveBeyond Addiction Conference the last few days.  I highly suggest tuning in to this FREE online conference whether you consider yourself an addict or not, or whether you work with addicts or not. There is some incredible wisdom here that I think everyone can find value in. One such example is the segment with Amy Pearson. Unfortunately, her segment is no longer available unless you purchase the conference but you can easily find her work online.

Amy talks about the idea of Approval Addiction and as part of this she describes a simple, yet powerful concept that she calls the "One Third Rule of Tribes".  It's not a new idea, I had heard something like it before, but there was something about the way she described it that really resonated with me. It's basically the idea that you can't please everybody all the time.

In summary, she divides the world population into thirds and labels them Haters, Neutrals and then Your Tribe.

The Haters are people that no matter what you do, how much you achieve, how kind you are, etc. you will never be impressive to them. You will never gain their approval.

The Neutrals are the group that could kind of take you or leave you without much thought. They might hear you out but aren't particularly excited about what you do or aren't particularly supportive but aren't judgemental or doubtful either.

Your Tribe, though, they are the people that get excited about what you have to say and are really interested in what you are doing with your life. They want to be around you and they really get it. You likely look up to each other and learn from each other. They support you and encourage you.

She goes on to say that the problem is that many people spend their time and energy trying to win over the Haters and the Neutrals but the reality is that we can never change how they deal with us.  In this, she says, we become invisible to Our Tribe, even unrecognizable, thus denying ourselves the primal need for this type of deeply authentic connection.

I can tell you from my own personal experience, letting go of trying to the gain the approval and support of the Haters and Neutrals in my life is still a work in progress. I have been slowly but surely shifting my energy and expression over the last few years and I have truly experienced the fulfillment of connecting with My Tribe - a connection I didn't consciously realize I was missing but always felt under the surface... an inner drive that was always pushing me in the direction I am going. And now I know why! :-)

What do you do when people you care about don't understand your journey?

A career path. A big move. The end of a relationship. The beginning of a relationship. Sometimes when we embark on a journey - a difficult one, an exciting one, or both - we quickly realize that EVERYONE has something to say about it. While we may expect this, it can still be tricky to navigate.  When I left my corporate career without another job lined up you can imagine that everyone felt completely comfortable offering their opinion about it. Coming to such a life-changing decision was difficult enough in itself.  With everything I had to consider, I did not give much thought to how I would deal with peoples’ reactions. Everyone from my mother to co-workers I barely knew wanted, and felt entitled, to know why and what was next.  It wasn't that I didn't want to share my story - this was a big decision that I was excited about - but I also didn't have it all figured out yet.  I found it challenging to figure out how to share my decision in a way that didn't prompt a million questions and unsolicited advice. 

When we are on a journey of pursuing something new or making a big change in our life, our energy can be spent in much more valuable ways than on appeasing peoples' curiosity or convincing them to accept our decision. I realized, just like they aren't obligated to understand your journey, you aren't obligated to explain your journey.  So here are 5 tips on how to deal with people in your life during this time:

1. Experiment!  You can experiment with what you tell to whom, and how much. You may feel inclined to tell more to your co-worker, who you think will be more understanding, than to your best friend, who is very opinionated. Or vice-versa!  It's perfectly acceptable to say "I am not in a place to talk about this in detail right now." or “I’m still figuring it out!" Try different responses with different people. You don't need to tell everything to everyone if you don't want to.  And you might find support and empathy from people outside your usual circle.

2. Show gratitude. Most of the time, people’s reactions are rooted in wanting what is best for you, worrying about you and wanting to help. Unfortunately, their concern can come across as judgment or doubt if you get reactions like, "Well what if...", "Why don't you just...", "You should...", "Why would you...".  I've heard it all. This can be incredibly frustrating. If you aren't up for participating in this conversation, acknowledge their concern with gratitude rather than shutting them down completely and they actually may back off a bit. For example, "I know you care about me and I am grateful for that. This is something I need to figure out for myself. I am doing what I need to do to be happy. I know you are there for me and if the time comes I want to talk about this in more detail, I know I can come to you." 

3. State your needs. If you want support but not advice, be clear about that. If you don't feel like answering questions, that's okay. If you just want to vent or cry one day and you want to celebrate the next, that's okay - it's your journey!  Those closest to you want to support you, they probably just don't know how. The best way to get the support you need is to be clear about what is helpful and what is not. Again, come from a place of gratitude and you will likely get a positive response. 

4. Try to meet people where they are.  For example, my mother will never understand why I left a comfy corporate career to pursue a less-stable, unconventional career. I can, and have tried to, explain it to her until I'm blue in the face and she will not understand. So rather than hoping that she will change the way she reacts to me, I change the way I deal with her. I divulge a little less detail about my pursuits. I laugh it off sometimes and say "Oh Mom, it's just a different time, happiness matters!" I don't like to sugar-coat or minimize things but I also realized how stressful it was for me to expect that she would be any other way than she is. I need to accept her where she is, just as I want her to accept me where I am. If this sounds like someone in your life, one way to respond is with, "I know this may not make sense to you but this is a difficult/exciting time for me and I want to focus my energy on working through it/enjoying it rather than explaining it." And then you can show them rather than tell them.  They will see your journey over time. 

5. If needed, reevaluate your relationship. Your journey might change you. Your needs might evolve. You might see things that you didn't see before. Your journey might incite or trigger things in other people - for better or worse. Stay open to these possibilities. A friend you thought might be supportive may become distant. I have found that when people pursue their dreams, it can sometimes leave people in their life feeling left behind or may stir up other feelings or reactions that ultimately have nothing to do with you. On the other hand, a casual friend may become closer because you have similar paths that only became clear once you embarked on your journey. It's okay to reevaluate the relationships in your life. We are always evolving so our relationships will too. 

When you are dealing with life changes, it can be easy to either push people away or feel like you have to explain everything to everyone. I hope these steps help you navigate your relationships as you embark on whatever journey you choose!