On the Need For Action

need for action

I just received a call from my husband, who is on the road to Alabama for work. He mentioned a major wreck that shut down the interstate and expressed appreciation for his GPS which found him an alternate route through the country. He conceded that the alternate path was significantly longer and probably wouldn’t actually save him time over simply waiting for the accident to clear. Then he added,

“As long as I’m moving forward, I’m psychologically happy.”

Pretty profound. And certainly doesn’t just apply to being on the road.

Disney designs their rides to keep the lines flowing towards intermediate goals. Video games are tooled so that plays are rewarded with ever-increasing levels. Students are motivated by graduating from one grade and advancing to the next. The popular “snowball method” of debt management basis its success on the intrinsic rewards found in tangible progress.

As long as we’re moving forward, we’re psychologically happy.

A sensation of being stuck breeds frustration. Forced stillness creates a feeling of being powerless. And the longer you’re immobile, the worse you feel.

Defeated, it’s easy to give up and sit down. To claim that we cannot move forward because of the obstacles in our way. To bemoan the length of the journey and elect to not undertake the path. To put so much energy into cursing what caused the standstill that there is little left over to press the gas pedal. To neglect to consult the GPS and instead passively sit behind the barriers before us, getting more exasperated with each passing minute spent in neutral.

Movement bestows a feeling of influence. Of progress. Of purpose.

As long as we’re moving forward, we’re psychologically happy.

Even if the path is circuitous. Even if the headway is painfully slow. And even if you have to retrace your steps.

Objects at rest tend to stay at rest; objects in motion tend to stay in motion.

Make inertia work for you.

Keep moving forward.

Why “How Could You Do This to Me?” Is the Wrong Question to Ask

how could you

I was a playlist on repeat.

“How could he do this to me?” I wailed to my dad as he made sure I was restrained by the seatbelt before racing off to the airport to escort me to the ruins of my once-placid life.

“How could he do this to me?” I cried to my mom, recalling how she always stated she found comfort in knowing that my husband looked after me.

“How could you do this me?” I whimpered on my husband’s voicemail as he continued to avoid my calls. I screamed it into the phone hours later.

“How could you do this me?” I carved into my journal imagining I was carving into his flesh instead.

“How could you do this to me?” I keened silently from the cold courtroom chair as I scanned his face for any sign of the man I had loved.

It seemed like the most pressing question. Holding an elusive answer just out of reach that, once found, would make sense of the senseless pain. I struggled to comprehend how someone that had only recently professed his love could instead act with such apparent malice.

The question consumed me. Engulfed me. Propelled me.

But all along, it was the wrong question to ask.

—–

It’s a normal question. We personalize. Internalize. When we’re feeling the impact of somebody’s actions, we can’t unfeel them. And those emotions are struggling to understand as our expectations are rudely slammed into an undesired reality.

It’s also a pointless question. One that rarely gets answered and even more infrequently, answered with any truth and clarity.

Because the reality is that the person didn’t act with the intention of doing this to you. Instead, they acted for them.

And you just happened to be in their way.

 

Here are the questions to ask instead:

What did they have to gain by doing this? What discomfort did they seek to avoid?

I was actually relieved when I discovered that my husband had committed bigamy. It was the first moment when I realized that his actions said way more about him than about me. It gave me a glimpse into his hidden world, where he was trying to escape the shame of a failed business and was trying to create a fictitious world where he was successful. Yes, he lied to me. But he lied more to avoid facing the truth himself. I was able to see his actions from his perspective, each choice either serving to bring him enjoyment or to offer him relief.

People act to move towards pleasure or, even more frequently, to move away from pain. Take yourself out of the picture for a moment. What did they have to gain from their actions? How did their choices help them avoid discomfort?

Yes, it’s selfish to act for your own benefit without considering others. And being selfish may be their character flaw. But selfish is a sign that they acted without regard for you not that they sought to do this to you.

Understanding their motivations goes a long way towards releasing the anger. It doesn’t excuse their choices. But it does help to unravel them and in turn, release you.

Why did I not notice? Why did I allow this?

Disorienting is an understatement. I stood in the property impound room beneath the police station as the policeman pulled out my husband’s everyday workbag. Inside, there was a wallet I had never seen filled with cards that were foreign. A camera soon followed, a duplicate of the one he had in his other life. The entire bag was a mix of the achingly familiar and the shockingly new.

I was confronted with the reality that my husband had been living a duplicitous life for years. Maybe even ALL of our years. And I had been clueless.

His actions were his problem. My ignorance was mine.

If you were decieved and manipulated, dig into the reasons that you were blind to reality. Like me, were you too afraid to face the truth and so you didn’t look too closely? Or were you pretending that all was okay and distracting yourself to maintain the illusion?

If you knew that you were being treated badly, why did you tolerate it? Had you been taught in childhood that you were lucky to receive any attention, even if it was negative? Were you afraid of being alone, opting for the devil you know?

These are big questions and ones often rooted in childhood or in trauma.It’s worth spending time here (maybe with the help of a counselor), especially if you want to avoid a repeat.

What am I feeling now? Is it all directly related or is some of it associated with past trauma being triggered?

I was on a mission. Needing information, I ran background reports. I combed through scraps of paper and old pay stubs looking for any relevant information. Driven, I triangulated his whereabouts using our checking account and used Google Earth to get a street view of his other wife’s home. I had one goal – to see him face the legal consequences for his actions.

It was all ultimately a distraction. If I focused on the detective work and the state of the pending legal action, I didn’t have to focus on me. On my pain. And on what I was going to do about it.

Are you focusing in the wrong direction? Maybe you’re busy attacking the other woman instead of looking at your marriage. Perhaps you’re busy going on the offensive for your day in court so that you don’t have to look within your own courtyard.

Be with your feelings. All of them. Even the ugly ones. Listen to them and then you can send them on their way.

Once I invited my feelings in, I was surprised to realize how much of my pain was only tangentially related to my husband’s disappearance. And how much was related to my own father’s perceived disappearance many years before.

It was an opportunity. A crossroads.

I could either ignore this triggered response only to have it return later.

Or I could address it. And work to understand how it impacted my adult choices and behaviors.

Stuff was done to you. What you do with it is up to you.

How will this impact me going forward? What do I need to do to move on?

“I need to find a way to make some good come from this,” I stated in a moment of profound clarity on the day I received the text that ended my life as I knew it. I had no idea how I was going to make that happen, but I knew on some level that creating something positive was going to be my key to survival. To thriving.

I had no idea just how hard that road was going to be. That even seven years on, I would still struggle to differentiate between true threats and echoes of the past. I have had to become an expert on my own healing, learning my triggers and becoming a master at disarming them.

Become a specialist in you. Explore your trouble spots and experiment with ways to strengthen them until you find what works. Be attentive to you. Be proactive. And most of all, be determined.

This is a defining moment in your life. You decide what it defines.

How can I avoid being in this position again? What are my lessons I need to learn?

A part of me – a BIG part of me – was surprised to see my fairly new boyfriend at the airport to pick me up. I had assumed that since my husband deemed it suitable to abandon me while I was visiting family, a recent beau would certainly follow suit.

I was operating from a place where abandonment was presumed. And if that mindset persisted, so would the discarding.

Instead of focusing on what happened, shift your attentions to what you can learn from what happened. They’re hard lessons, I know. The most important lessons always are.

Your power comes from choosing how you respond. And every bad moment is an opportunity to learn to respond a little better.

How can I turn this into a gift?

When I look at my life now, I am profoundly grateful for what happened years ago. I’m thankful for the shock. For the pain. For the confusion. And even for the anger. Because all of that has led to a much better place – a much happier place – than I could have ever imagined.

This is a hard question. Perhaps the hardest.

It seems impossible when you’re choking on the pain that it can actually help you learn to breathe. But it can.

Be patient. And be persistent.

Because finding the gifts hidden beneath is the best gift you can give yourself.

So that one day, instead of saying, “How could you do this to me?” you can say –

Thank you for doing this to me.

And mean it.

 

6 Steps For Moving On After Divorce

I’ve had so many people contact me looking for a specific action plan to move on after divorce. And I’m working on something along those lines. Something big. And also something time-consuming, so you’ll have to be patient:)

In the meantime, here’s something to get you started if you are finding yourself paralyzed with inaction. I’ve broken it down into six steps. I know that sometimes moving on feels impossible; just focus on one step at a time. And then the next.

Belief

Hope. Faith. Trust. Whatever you call it, it starts here. If you believe you won’t be able to move on, your thoughts will help to keep you anchored. If you have conviction that the best is yet to come, you open the door. The way you feel right now is not the way you will always feel. What seems of such critical importance right now will in time, feel inconsequential. At this step, you do not need to know how you will get there, you just have to believe that you will.

Decision

The Secret isn’t enough. It takes more than positive thought to create change. You have to make your “hope” an active verb. This is a difficult step and a critical one. It’s easy to bypass and then get stuck further along. At this point, your job is to make the decision to move on. Make it your mantra. Don’t just say it, feel it. Be so committed to moving on that you won’t let anything get in your way. Channel your inner bull and use that stubbornness to take the next step.

Plan

I’m assuming your basic goal is to feel better, put this behind you and be happy again. Awesome goal. Now, break it down. Even smaller. This step can feel overwhelming if you are focusing on something too big. Small and doable is better than big and overwhelming any day. Baby steps will still get you to the finish line.

Start with one or two specific areas you want to change. Problem solve and brainstorm some potential solutions.

Tired of the crying that keeps you up at night? Maybe purge your thoughts in a journal before bed. Or redirect your thoughts with a funny show. Or take a walk to reset your brain.

Be specific.

Be measurable.

Be actionable.

It matters less what it is than that you have identified an area to focus on and thought of something to try. And make sure those plans are in writing; it helps with the next steps.

Action

So, you believe you can move on. You’ve dug in your heels and declared you’re going to do it. And you’ve even identified one or two changes you can make to help get you there.

Fantastic.

Now do it.

Accountability

Change is hard. And when that change is all mucked up with emotion? Yeah. Not impossible. Not by a long shot. But definitely harder.

So, find a way to hold yourself accountable. Start by making your plan highly visible. Track your progress. Share your journey with others.

You cannot outsource healing; you have to do it yourself. Be careful not to fall into the trap of, “I’ll do … as soon as (anybody that you cannot control) does …” You’ll be waiting a long time. And remember, you’re too stubborn to let anybody or anything hold you back.

Here’s a whole list of ways to help make your change lasting change.

Reflection

So you’ve made it this far. Maybe you’re thinking, “Cool. I feel better.” Or, more likely, you’re more, “I’m still kind of sucky. Maybe it’s a bit better, but I’m not sure.”

Remember how I said the way you feel now is not the way you’ll always feel? Well, we often also believe that the way we feel now is the way we’ve always felt. So dig into that journal. Look back at emails or posts. Evaluate your progress. Have you taken a baby step (or two)? They’re hard to see until you look back.

How is your action plan working? Does it need a tweak? Do you need a new focus? No problem. These steps for moving on aren’t linear. Take them as many times as you need to.

So believe you can. Decide you will. Plan your approach. Take the steps. Accept responsibility. And welcome perspective.

You got this.

Related: 6 Reasons You’re Having Trouble Moving On

Live the Life You Have, Not the Life You Lost

live the life

Live the life you have, not the life you lost.

I recently re-watched the movie Stand By Me for the first time in many years. As with every exposure to one of Stephen King’s masterpieces, I was again struck by the particular insight the author has into the expanding and mysterious world of a child. As with all of my previous encounters with the story (either in book or movie form), I was drawn to the character of Gordie. He is the quieter, more introspective one of the group. He observes. He analyzes. He is both in the moment and aware of the bigger picture.

And he is also invisible.

We learn that his older brother, one of those “shining” boys that attracts the adoration of all, was killed the previous year in a car accident. The grocer doesn’t see Gordie, he only sees the brother of the one who was taken too soon. Even his parents barely acknowledge their surviving child, protecting the older brother’s shrine of a room over the needs of Gordie. We see them going through the motions of life without purpose. Nurturing the one who is gone while neglecting the one who is left.

They are living the life they lost, not the life they have.

It’s easy to do. When the loss is acute, it demands attention. It insists that it be the primary focus of every day and every breath. And in healthy grieving, the loss never fades completely, yet it no longer occupies the front seat, displacing everything else.

But sometimes grief becomes stuck. And the loss remains the number one, relegating the ones who remain to a place of invisibility and inattention.

Nurturing what was instead of what is.

It’s hard to change the future. But it’s even harder to change the past.

Live the life you have, not the life you lost.

Eleven Traps That Hold You Back After Divorce

hold back divorce

The journey back to life after divorce is a tricky one. You’re depleted and overwhelmed and simply ready for things to hurry up and get back to normal already. It’s easy to feel stuck, trapped between your life and the life you wish to create. When you become aware of these snares, you are better able to disengage and find the freedom to move forward.

Feeling stuck?

The following are common traps that can hold you back after divorce:

Sadness

Divorce is the end of the life you had. It is the death of the marriage and of the shared dreams. It may mean significant changes in family and in lifestyle. It’s natural to mourn. To grieve. You have suffered a major loss.

Sadness becomes a trap when you try to avoid it. When you sense the oncoming tears and instead of letting them flow, you turn away and try to deny their existence. The sorrow only builds when you ignore it, the weight of it holding you down. The only way to relieve sadness is to feel it, acknowledge it and let it flow through you.

Feeling sad?

Guilt

Remorsefulness comes in many forms after divorce. You may feel guilty for not maintaining your vows, letting your spouse down or not providing the life you had envisioned for your children. Or maybe you even feel guilty because you let yourself down, staying in a situation you swore you would never tolerate.

Guilt has a productive purpose; it guides our actions and acts as a warning light for unethical choices. But sometimes there’s a short in the system, the alarm sounding even when no intentional wrongs have been committed. Consider your actions truthfully. If you owe any apologies, deliver them with sincerity (don’t forget to send one to yourself) and then let the guilt go, as it has served its purpose.

Why

Even when the world responds otherwise, we often possess an innate sense of fairness. Of balance between our intentions and our experiences. When divorce happens, especially if it is a particularly brutal divorce that leaves you feeling victimized and battered, it is natural to question “why?”

At first, exploring the “why” feels like an escape. It distracts from the pain and activates a more rational and aware part of the brain. But “why” is a deceptively sneaky trap. We convince ourselves that once we understand, we will be okay.  But no amount of information can relieve the pain. At some point, you have to accept that you won’t know everything and that you can move on regardless.

Vengeance

When we are in pain, we often want to last out. When others harm us, we want them to experience the same suffering. We hold onto our anger like a shield, the sheer power of it enough to protect our delicate selves beneath. We want our perceived persecutor to face consequences. After all, it’s only fair.

The need for revenge is a brutal trap. While your attention is filled with negative thoughts about your ex, you neglect to care for yourself. When you are filled with rage, you end up being singed. And when you base your well-being on someone else’s downfall? Well, that’s just not good karma.

Here’s the truth: You can move on even if justice as you see it is never served. Besides while you’re waiting for the desired punishment to be meted out, who is really the one held in prison?

Feeling angry?

Loneliness

If you have lost a spouse that you shared many years and many memories with, the forfeiture of the shared history is ruthless. The sudden void is cavernous, the shock of the missing person all-encompassing like the cold air on your goose-pimpled flesh as the water drains out of the bath.

It’s a scary place to be, where two split back into ones. You may feel rejected. Isolated from your former life. Alone against the world. It hurts. But at some point loneliness is a choice. It is up to you to fill your life back up with friends and memories. You have to get up and get out to be connected.

Feeling alone?

Permanence

We have this way of believing that the way things are now is the way they will always be. But everything changes. Even suffering.  The way you feel now is not the way you will feel next year. Or next week. Or even tomorrow.

Divorce is a time when you have to rewrite your life’s plans. But it’s the start of a new chapter, not the end of the story. New beginnings are brimming with possibilities. See them.

Feeling hopeless?

Worthiness

When we have been rejected, we often internalize the message, assuming that if it happened to us, it must have happened because of us.  We may see ourselves as broken, and either seek out rescuers and fixers or conclude that we are unworthy of love and compassion. We may view our mistakes as fatal character flaws that render us useless.

Divorce is an enormous blow to our self-image and confidence. And it can also help to build us back up as we complete steps we never thought we were capable of. Be mindful of the thoughts you allow about yourself and be deliberate with your personal narrative. After all, the words we say to others have influence. But the words we say to ourselves have power. You are worthy. Say it. Believe it. Live it.

Fear

While some may respond to the fear of divorce by fighting, others may freeze in place, scared that if they move, they will be targeted yet again. Still others may run, seeking to avoid facing the truth of the end of the marriage and the carnage left behind.

When we allow fear to drive our lives, we are limiting ourselves. It may feel like living, but it is only a facsimile bounded by self-imposed rules and boundaries. It’s scary taking that leap of faith from what you knew into the abyss of possibility. But that risk may be preferable to the limitations imposed by apprehension. Don’t let fear be your chauffeur; drive your own life.

Feeling scared?

Super-Parent

If you are in the position of assuming primary (or only) care for the children, it is all too easy to feel great pressure to mitigate the impact of the divorce by being a super-parent. I see parents who feel guilty for the effects of the divorce and overcompensate by being too permissive with their kids. I see parents who feel guilty about the void created by divorce who strove to fill it by any means necessary.

But most of all I see parents who are overwhelmed and overworked, assuming the entirety of the burden of childcare and decision-making. They become all-mom or all-dad and lose themselves in the process as they place their children’s needs first. This is a tricky trap. Your kids need you. But they also need you to be you. Wholly you.

Give yourself permission to be a good enough parent rather than a perfect parent. Focus on what matters and be willing to release the details that really don’t. Seek out support and guidance from others. And make sure to take care of yourself too.

Preservation

This is the trap of “I will never let myself be hurt again,” the walls that prevent any weaknesses from showing. That protect any vulnerabilities.  This trap is often rife with justifications of why it is better to be alone than to risk being hurt.

Consider this: If you are focused on preserving, how much are you enjoying? If you only think about protection, do you ever experience enjoyment? Life is meant to be lived, not secured under glass.

What If

This trap ensnares you with thought tendrils that wind around your brain, whispering about possible actions and outcomes whose time has already passed. The “what if” trap is a maze with no exit, a circuitous path that never ends.

When you spend your energy wondering about what could have happened, you give the past power to rob the future of its potential. Instead of “what if,” try “what now” and focus on what is yet to come.

When will I feel better?