When You’re No Longer At Home In Your Own Skin

It was a snake that first taught me that growth is uncomfortable.

It was a Kenyan sand boa, a small and docile breed, that found its way into my life over twenty years ago. The gentle creature seemed to enjoy being handled and even was tolerant of the inquisitive sniffs and snorts of my over-enthusiastic pug.

All that changed one day when he acquired a defensive posture when I reached into his enclosure to refill his water. Startled, I pulled my hand back and examined him through the safety of the glass. I immediately noticed that his eyes were clouded and his normally striking patterns seemed muted.

I soon realized that the young snake had outgrown his own skin and was making preparations  to shed his restrictive covering. Curious and with a front-row seat of the process, I watched him over the next couple weeks.

And I learned that growth is uncomfortable.

 

The snake’s discomfort was clear. Instead of moving around his enclosure, he alternated between hiding under some debris and attempting to force the old skin off with the help of a rough branch. He refused to eat and he became irritable when stimulated. The translucent eye caps meant that he retained some sense of light and shadow, but he struggled to orient with his compromised vision.

Watching him, I alternated between awe at nature’s solution to a growing body in an inflexible skin and dread that this creature had to endure this experience throughout its life. Growth was inevitable, and with it, discomfort.

Early one morning, I was elated to see the old skin lying across the branch, which apparently had eventually been of assistance. The newly-unencumbered snake luxuriated on his heat rock; he seemed drawn to the warmth more than usual as his new and fragile skin was forming. Later that day, he gladly accepted the offered food, ready to embrace life again.

 

The snake left my life as abruptly as it had entered and I didn’t think of it for many years. Until one day, some weeks after my ex left, when I suddenly felt constricted within my own life. I had grown accustomed to labels and roles that no longer applied. I existed within limitations that had become self-imposed.

At first, I tried to make it work, to try to force myself back to who I was.

But it didn’t work.

I was uncomfortable, fighting against the inevitable and resisting in an attempt to regain some sense of power and control over my life. I found myself continually drawn back towards my old ways of doing things, wanting to turn away from the fear and the pain.

I attempted to avoid the discomfort, to give it a wide birth and fill my sightline with distractions.

But it didn’t work.

I wanted to lash out. I wanted to hide. I wanted to be anywhere but where I was. Anyone but who I was.

I tried to tell myself to snap out of it, to move on already.

But it didn’t work.

And that’s when the image of the snake filled me with understanding. The growth was unescapable and so was the discomfort. Relief was to found not in an attempt to hold onto my ill-fitting skin in desperation, but in finding the courage to let it go.

And the willingness to embrace what came next.

 

 

Three Powerful Lessons About Finding Love From An Unlikely Source

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Because sometimes the way to learn to do something better is to start with what we already know…

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You know: Never go to the grocery store when hungry.

When you succumb to the grocery store on an empty stomach, you’re possessed by a powerful drive to grab anything in your sight. You have a tendency to zero in on high-calorie items, especially those stocked for maximum visual impact. Your reasoning and planning abilities are sluggish, which may lead to a full cart but an empty pantry as you later realize you forgot the staples.

In contrast, when you navigate the store on a full stomach, you find it easier to stick to your list of needed items and resist those temptations that look good only to leave you feeling bad.

Love lesson: Never date when starving for affection.

When you’re starving for attention and affection, you may enter the dating scene driven by that ravenous and undiscriminating hunger. You’re likely to grab anything that catches your eye with little thought to its long-term impact.

Instead, strive to fill the voids in your life with friends, family, hobbies, passions and purpose before you seek out romantic love. You will make better choices for the long term and be better able to stick to your list of “must haves.” And you’ll also find it easier to pass on those people that make you feel good in the moment only to cause regret in the morning.

You know: Your cart only has so much space.

A grocery cart has finite space and so decisions must be made about what will be chosen to occupy that real estate. Maybe you notice a sale on soda and you’re tempted to fill the basket until the cans pile over the brim. You may justify this decision, claiming that you’re taking advantage of a good deal and that you never know when such a sale may come around again.

But at what expense? Yes, you’ll have soda for months. But you can’t live on pop alone.

Love lesson: Sometimes you have to let go of what makes you feel good in the moment in order to make space for what fulfills you long term.

Once we have allowed someone space in our lives, we tend to justify their place there even when they may not have been the wisest choice. It can be easy to focus on the parts that fit while actively ignoring the reasons why it’s not a good idea.

It’s a version of FOMO (fear of missing out). Because as long as that person is there, you know you have someone. If you let them go, you risk being alone. But there’s only so much space. And sometimes you have to let go of one thing in order to make room for what you need.

You know: Junk food may be quick and easy, but it is detrimental to your health.

So called “food deserts” earned their moniker not from a lack of food, but from a lack of quality food. Processed foods are tempting because they require little investment of time or money. They promise sustenance and indeed provide some feeling of satiety. These “foods” have been carefully engineered to promote maximum consumption and to encourage dependency.

However, in the longer run, these foods can cause starvation even as they widen the waistline since key nutrients have been replaced with fillers and empty calories. Healthy foods take effort, intention and planning as you turn the raw ingredients into something that will both nurture and fortify you.

Love lesson: Healthier relationships take time and energy to prepare.

Quick fixes are tempting in love as well. Those relationships that ignite quickly and fill you with both a surge of temporary well-being and a driving need for more. They can become a drug, leading you to always search for that next spark of interest. Only to leave you empty and lonely once the initial attraction fades.

Healthier relationships are built from the ground up. There is effort. Intention. Sustained energy and shared responsibility. And the pride and ownership that comes from doing something yourself.

The End of a Relationship: The Leavers and The Left

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This piece, about what happens to the people that leave relationships abruptly and/or with deception, caused quite a stir on Facebook recently. The comments fell into two camps: “Thank you for validating my experience” and “I’m the one who left my marriage and I’m tired of being painted as the bad guy.”

The reaction got me thinking about our overall views and assumptions about those that leave a relationship versus those that stay. Rarely, is it as simple as leaver = bad and left = good. Let’s explore what it means to be the one who leaves versus the one who is left behind.

The Leaver

Anyone who has chosen to end a marriage faces societal stigma. No matter how sensitively and maturely (don’t worry, we’ll talk about the jerks in a minute) they approach the divorce, they do often face the bulk of the criticism and blame. Those on the outside may paint the leaver as a quitter, not willing to put in the work to sustain a marriage. Even without any suggestion of impropriety, people may question if there was an affair that prompted the decision. Friends of both partners may empathize more with the one who has been left and put the responsibility for the pain at the feet of the leaver.

The spouse that is left may lash out in pain, a struggle to accept the situation morphing into an attack on the departing spouse. Because no matter how much the leaver tries to deliver the news with compassion, the pain screams louder than any concern. In an attempt to garner more sympathy, the left may spin stories about their ex, painting them as horrible instead of human. And for someone who struggled mightily with the decision to leave, this can be an additional punch to the gut.

It is often assumed that the decision to leave was made rashly, selfishly. Yet for the non-jerks, it may well have been an internal battle that had been tearing them up for years. And the decision may have been made as much for the well-being of the other spouse or the children as for the happiness of the one who made the decision.

Sometimes a spouse demonstrates great courage and character by deciding to end the marriage. This is certainly the case when an abused partner gathers the conviction to leave their abuser. It is also the case where boundaries have repeatedly been ignored and promises left unfulfilled; it takes bravery to say, “Enough is enough” and be willing to walk away. And this can also be true when the marriage has real issues and the one who leaves is the only one willing to peak beneath the facade of perfection.

Those who leave are taking a blind dive into the unknown (I know some have a new bed already made; we’ll get to the jerks soon!). They are the ones making that choice and willingly accepting the repercussions. In the case of the good folks, they may agonize over the best way to announce the end so that it causes as little pain as possible.

The leaver may appear to be rational, even cold, after the news is delivered. For the non-jerks, this is usually a combination of months or years adapting to this decision and a need to start creating some emotional distance. They may be dealing with massive guilt and simply can’t bear to see the destruction of the family from the front row. The withdrawal can read as non-caring when it may simply be self-protection.

When it comes to the jerks, their motivations and approach are entirely different. They often exhibit cowardice when leaving – choosing to disappear completely, painting their unsuspecting spouse as the malicious one, embezzling marital funds to ease the transition, or cultivating an affair so that they can slide out of one bed and into another. They make no attempt to soften the blow and may even appear to revel in their ex’s pain. Their reasons for leaving are selfish in nature and may even involve years of deceptions and manipulations. Some of them are ignorant, some of them are mental ill and some of them are just assholes. And they are a big part of the reason we tend to stigmatize those that leave a marriage.

The Left

The spouse who is left usually has the benefit of society’s empathy and commiseration. We’ve all felt the pain of rejection and so it’s easy to put ourselves in that person’s shoes. Even though there still may be some judgment, usually in the form of, “What did you do to make them leave?” it is less pervasive than the criticism faced by the one who leaves.

The one who is left may be in shock and, as a result of not being prepared for this sudden change, may make decisions that seem strange or even harmful. Even though they may not face the same stigma, they may feel pummeled by a storm of the “shoulds” by well-intentioned friends and family.

Sometimes, the one who is left demonstrates perseverance and hope, aware of the issues in the marriage and determined to address them. Maybe they have sought counseling, taken the hard looks inside and made the personal changes needed to improve the marriage. When their partner throws in the towel, they may feel angry that their efforts were wasted.

Other times (like in my case), the one who is left is cowardly, afraid to see the reality of the marriage in case a mere glance is enough to shatter what remains. Maybe they are more afraid of being alone than of staying put and so they close their eyes to the facts. Or perhaps they struggle to take responsibility for their own actions (and consequences), so they stay put hoping that their spouse will be the one to take the leap (and assume the culpability).

The ones who stay may be motivated out of codependence, a belief that they can “fix” their partner. They may be willing to be a doormat, preferring to be trampled on than not needed at all. If there is abuse, they may stay because they’ve been led to believe that they “deserve” the mistreatment (abuse is never okay!) and they lack the self-worth needed to make an escape.

The one who is left may be blindsided by the split (raises hand) or may have played an active role in triaging and trying to treat the marriage. For the former, the one-sidedness of the end can not only create immense shockwaves, it can also make it harder to move out of a victim mindset. For the latter, they may feel gratitude towards their partner for taking that needed (and uncomfortable) step.

No matter the nature of the end, the way that the leaver handles it is a key factor in how the one who is left will respond. The worst ways include abandonment and character assassination. The best, a calm and in-person conversation with time to talk after the initial news has been processed. And that responsibility lies entirely with the leaver, which means the one who is left often feels powerless about the decision and the way it was handled. And this helplessness is perhaps the worst part of being left.

(I’m not going to get into the myriad effects of being left by a jerk here; I feel like I’ve addressed that enough over the years!)

Divorce isn’t easy for anyone, whether you were the one who decided the marriage was over or you were the one who received the news. Regardless of your situation, you are responsible for your actions after the decision has been made. Strive to act with compassion and kindness towards yourself and others. Divorce is hard enough as it is, there’s no need to make it harder.

5 Tips For Managing Your Pre-Divorce Anxiety

You’ve made the decision to divorce.

Maybe you’re ready for it to be over after months or years of trying to make it work, looking forward to closing this chapter so you can begin the next.

Perhaps you’ve accepted that this is your best – or only – course of action and you just want to get it done so that you don’t have to carry it at the front of your mind any longer.

Or possibly this divorce is unwanted, and the time spent waiting for it to be finalized is prolonging the agony.

 

Regardless of your situation, the months or years of legal limbo between the decision to divorce and the final paperwork can be a difficult time to manage. Over at DivorceForce, here are five ways to make this period a little easier.

Who Are You Becoming?

You become the five people you spend the most time with.

It’s a common saying. And although perhaps not demonstratively true, it certainly has veracity. It’s one of those phrases I encountered so often, that it began to lose it’s meaning. And then one day, about six months after my ex left, I found myself delivering that saying to a student who was making some poor social choices. As I was counseling her about her choices, I began to simultaneously reflect on my own.

I was doing great with the actual people that I was surrounding myself with – people with quality character from a wide range of age groups and backgrounds. I felt good about the friendships I had built and the new people that I was attracting into my life. As my student starting talking through her connections, I was feeling at peace with mine, as they were all people I was happy to emulate.

And then she mentioned a person – a former friend – and explained that although they no longer saw each other, that other girl was still a major (and negative) influence on my student’s life through the muddied channels of middle school drama and the burgeoning world of social media.

I stopped short. This thirteen-year-old girl, that I thought I was teaching, just taught me something. Because even though I was confident with the physical people in my life, I was spending substantial mental time with the shadow of my ex. In fact, if I thought about the energy invested and the influence received, he was definitely in the top five. If not even number one.

And I certainly didn’t want to become like him.