Karen DeBonis's Blog
August 20, 2025
The dirty work of personal growth
Not a pretty picture. A bedroom prepped for A/C installation.Thanks for reading GROWTH: Make it Personal! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
Decades ago, we built an addition on our first home, a three-bedroom, one-bath Dutch colonial. Our only child, Matthew, was four, and before we had a second child, I wanted a second bathroom.
Early in the construction process, my husband Michael, an architect, called from his office one morning before I’d left for work. In those pre-cell phone days, there was essentially no way to reach a contractor once they were on the job, and Michael wanted me to clarify that the crew understood where a basement window was to be installed.
I cringed. Not only did my people-pleasing make it hard to be anything other than my “that looks great!” self, but I hated talking to workmen. I didn’t understand the nitty-gritty mechanics of the project. I didn’t speak construction-ese.
But I felt I had no choice. It was my house, too, my desire for a second bathroom, my paycheck helping to fund the project.
With a deep breath, I stepped out the back door.
“Good morning,” I chirped to the two workmen. “My husband just called—he wants to make sure you center the window on the wall.”
I don't recall their reply, but I remember their dismissive tones and looks of annoyance. They were going to do what they were going to do. No 30-something female—homeowner or not—was going to give them instructions. I felt my big girl panties sprout pink ruffles before slipping to my ankles.
When I got to work and called Michael, I felt even more childish. I made some excuse about doing my best. (Which wasn’t, in fact, a lie.)
At that point in our eight-year marriage, we had never discussed how hard it was for me to speak up. I didn’t fully understand and had never disclosed my fear of conflict or my compulsion to please others.
Michael didn’t make a big deal out of it, and as I recall (he doesn’t recall), the window wasn’t where he wanted it, but it was close enough.
For years, I wished I could have a do-over. I like to think that if I were half the assertive woman I am now, I’d know exactly what to say.
I’d look the workmen in the eye and speak firmly, saying…
I’d stand tall, shoulders back, and..
Confidently, I would say…
I don’t know what I would say! Right now, in real time, it’s interesting how much I struggle to think of the best way to respond. Should I be polite but firm? Loud and angry? Sarcastic?
Maybe I’d smile, look the men intently in the eyes, and say, “Since I live here, let me suggest we review my request.”
Even now, I wonder, would I have the self-assuredness to say this without quaking so much that I keel over?
Has my personal growth been enough?I got my answer last week.
We live in a different house now—a 1910 brick four-square. Like most old homes, it doesn't have air-conditioning, and between warmer summers and our older bodies, we decided to bite the expensive A/C installation bullet.
The three men on the work crew were all polite to me. But their testosterone buzzed through the house, and their gruff voices, sometimes loud and angry, bounced off the walls. As an introvert, it jangled my nerves. I hate having people invade my personal space. I mostly stayed in the dining room—the only room not under construction.
At one point, I overheard Michael having a conversation with one of the workers. They were cutting holes for the vents in the stairwell ceiling, 14 feet above the landing.
”When you’re done up there,” Michael said, “can you dust off the ceiling fan blades?”
“You’re kidding, right?” the guy asked.
Michael stood his ground. “No, I’m not.”
There was some joking, and the fan ultimately got dusted.
The whole time, I was projecting my insecurities and fear of conflict onto Michael. Are they going to be pissed that he's asking him to do more work? Will they think he's unmanly because he cares about dust? Will they laugh at him behind his back?
Michael came back to the dining room and asked if I had heard his conversation. With a knowing smile, he said, “You never could have done that, right?”
I shook my head vehemently, eyes wide in mock terror.
In sharing my fears, I found support.As a result of my releasing my book, Michael now understands the depth and difficulty of my people-pleasing. Because I let him (and the world!) in on my secret, he (and others) can be supportive, both when I regress and when I grow.
Amidst the upheaval of a home construction project, I learned again that there are limits to my self-assuredness. I have more work to do. Perfection is not my goal. Progress is.
Personal growth is not all or none, black and white, or strictly linear. It’s never a perfect process. We learn, we falter, we succeed, only to repeat the steps as we slowly inch forward.
If growth could be achieved with the snap of a finger, what wisdom would be lost?
As novelist Ursula K Le Guin wrote:
“It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it is the journey that matters, in the end.”
This beautiful and mesmerizing video captures it powerfully.
Thank you for bearing witness to my falling and rising.
Karen
How would you describe your personal growth journey? How many steps forward and how many backward before you feel you’ve made progress?
If you’d prefer not to leave a comment, you can scroll all the way down and give me a heart so I know you’re here! ❤️ Thank you, thank you. These likes truly mean a lot to me.
You can also share this newsletter:
Share GROWTH: Make it Personal
In my writing life…I'm still lying flat on my back icing my lumbar spine for a good portion of most days. My sciatic pain has been physically excruciating and emotionally demoralizing. How I rue the day I moved those garden pavers!
I can’t sit or stand for long, and find it difficult to write from a fully reclined position. This newsletter is all the writing I could accomplish this month.
I did, however, pitch a dream magazine to write an article about my hopeful cure. Hint: If they accept it, I believe it will make a “big splash.” ;)
Book newsI am so grateful for every reader who takes the time to post a review. If you’ve done that, a sincere thank you. If you haven’t yet, would you take a few minutes to add your thoughts? Reviews beget more readers in the Amazon algorithm universe.
Don’t know how to do an Amazon review? No problem, I gotcha! See my simple directions here.
Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing converge, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold, or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
July 22, 2025
Paying the price for not listening
The causes of my injury. Or were the culprits my stubbornness and stupidity?Thanks for reading GROWTH: Make it Personal! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
I started this newsletter on July 4, a sunny day in the mid-80s with low humidity. It would have been the perfect day to enjoy my morning coffee on the porch, putter around in the garden for a few hours, or head out for an afternoon picnic, and later, fireworks.
Instead, I lay on my back on the couch for most of the day, an ice pack cooling my lumbar spine where two herniated discs are pinching my sciatic nerve.
The “rebellious gardening” I wrote about in my last newsletter was not as freeing as it had seemed. I wrote that pushing through my aches and pains felt “so damn good, like giving a finger to aging,” and that “I was careful not to exacerbate my existing ailments.” I told my husband, “If this is what 66 feels like, I’ll take it!”
WRONG.
My rebellious gardening was, in fact, stupid. I’d felt a twinge of pain in my left hip the morning I planned to woman-handle a half-dozen heavy pavers into place. I warned myself aloud, “Karen, your body is telling you to take a break.”
But did I listen?
NO.
I spent a few hours hunched over, dragging, pushing, and walking 75-pound pavers into place. The next morning, I woke in agony.
That was over seven weeks ago. Since then, the pain has been constant, often excruciating and immobilizing. I can't sit, stand, or walk for long. Some days, I can’t reach down to put my shoes on. It’s taken multiple attempts to finish this newsletter because I can’t concentrate for long.
Most days, I manage to water my flowers and drag myself to the treatment du jour—acupuncture, chiropractic, massage, or PT—then I retreat to the couch and my ice pack.
When I don’t feel well, I withdraw. I don’t want visitors. I don’t want to chat. I don’t even want to open Facebook. My natural introversion becomes isolation. Emotionally, it’s not healthy.
The pain management doctor says this should last three months. “Only” five weeks to go as of this writing. If I’m lucky.
Chronic illness—an opportunity for personal growthChronic or long-lasting health issues impart myriad life lessons to the sufferer if they are open to personal growth. So far, my bout of sciatica has taught me nothing I didn’t already know, but apparently I needed a reminder to…
Let go of expectations. Listen to my body. Take time to rest.
How or if to share my physical painAside from physical pain making it difficult to write this newsletter, I also struggle with how or if to complain.
Dare I whine, given all the true suffering in the world?
Is it better not to mention my pain when others have it so much worse? How can I tell a friend when I know that friend suffers more than I?
Is bitching about pain a turn-off? If I do it too often, do I risk it becoming my identity?
The irony is that if I weren’t in so much pain, I might have the bandwidth to explore these questions. Perhaps another day I’ll do that.
Today, I’ll have to let the questions hang in the air. My ice pack is calling.
Do you have chronic pain or illness? What parameters, if any, do you put on sharing? Please let me know in the comments—let’s start a discussion.
If you’d prefer not to leave a comment, you can scroll all the way down and give me a heart so I know you’re here! ❤️ Thank you, thank you. These likes truly mean a lot to me.
You can also share this newsletter:
Share GROWTH: Make it Personal
Thanks for reading, friend!
In my writing life…Although pain hindered my ability to write this month, seeds I had sewn earlier bore fruit.
Next Avenue published my essay about lymphatic drainage massage. You’ll want to know all the benefits of this treatment that can be done at home. (Full disclosure: I gave it my best shot, but this self-help treatment did not reduce my sciatic pain.)
Lymphatic Drainage Massage: The Miracle Worker for My Knee Pain
The Ethel, an AARP publication, just published an essay about people-pleasing that I first submitted last summer. Yes, sometimes the wheels of the writing life grind that slowly. Within a day of its publication, two readers wrote me to say that my story resonated with them. That made the wait worth it.
The Personality Trait That Was Paralyzing Me
Also, I was honored to be a guest on the Meet the Author Book Club with Julie Nurnimen Trainer, host of the Hidden Gifts of Loss Podcast and Hidden Gifts of Loss Facebook Community page. I had a delightful discussion with a supportive and engaged group of readers. Thank you, Julie!
Speaking of book clubs, are you a member of a live or virtual book club? I’d be thrilled if your group selects my book and invites me to your discussion. Questions? Reply to this email or reach out at contact@karendebonis.com.
Finally, a writing acquaintance and fellow memoirist featured me on her Substack. Thank you, Dawn!
Memoirist in the MuseumINTRODUCING SUCCESSFUL MEMOIRIST, KAREN DEBONISFrom time to time, I like to add someone else's story of how they came to be published. I think it helps for readers to discover what other writers have encountered, what their journey to publication has been like…Read more23 days ago · 5 likes · 21 comments · RoseBook newsI am so grateful for every reader who takes the time to post a review. If you’ve done that, a sincere thank you. If you haven’t yet, would you take a few minutes to add your thoughts? Reviews beget more readers in the Amazon algorithm universe.
Don’t know how to do an Amazon review? No problem, I gotcha! See my simple directions here.
Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing converge, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold, or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
May 28, 2025
On Being a Seasonal Writer
My mom made this pot, and my dad found the perfect log to complete the look. Both parents have passed, and I love having their presence in the garden.Thanks for reading GROWTH: Make it Personal! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
I've been working on this newsletter for a week, trying to explain how my aches, pains, and minor injuries affected my writing and gardening, and I decided I'm sick and tired of complaining about what ails me.
Besides, I don’t want to write in May. I cannot sit at my laptop when the Lenten roses need to be trimmed and a boxwood needs to be moved. When the pachysandra has to be cut back to expose the Belgian block edging. When my shade garden now has full sun because we had to take down a huge maple tree last year.
So much to do and so little May to do it in.
I'm a seasonal writer, I realized. May is not the time to write, it is the time to garden. The rest of the summer, when I wilt in the sun, I’ll be content (or at least resigned) to spend the hot afternoons at my desk tapping away.
Rebellious gardening—giving a finger to aging.As for my aches and pains—eff them. With surgery and arthritis temporarily crippling one hand, I used the other hand to lay pavers for garden paths. When my knees became inflamed from digging holes and bending over, I took a break inside to elevate my legs, then returned to my task. When the mysterious and occasional pain in my instep struck, I unlaced my sneaker, pulled back the tongue, and kept on truckin’.
It’s “rebellious gardening,” and it feels so damn good, like giving a finger to aging.
I was careful not to exacerbate my existing ailments, and fortunately, my husband, Michael, was available to do the heavy lifting, literally.
Now, to borrow a writing maxim, I’m going to show, not tell:
My deer-resistant shade garden. Rainy day activitiesI did manage to do a little writing this month. The Ethel will soon publish an essay I wrote a while back about people-pleasing, and the editor liked it so much, she requested another piece more closely related to my book!
Also, I felt compelled to pitch an article about my game-changing discovery of lymphatic drainage massage. Never heard of it? I hadn’t either. But you’re going to want to know all the benefits of this treatment that can be done at home. Next Avenue will publish my essay around June 3. I’ll share the link in my next newsletter. Be sure to subscribe so you don’t miss it!
Finally, I was honored to be a guest on the Empowered Women Book Club with Joelle Tamraz, author of the award-winning memoir The Secret Practice. The attendees and I had a moving and validating discussion.
Virtual book clubs are an easy way to connect with readers across the globe. I encourage you to check out the Empowered Women Book Club’s upcoming book picks.
Speaking of book clubs…Are you a member of a live or virtual book club? I’d be thrilled if your group selects my book and invites me to your discussion. Questions? Reply to this email or reach out at contact@karendebonis.com.
Any thoughts about rebellious gardening, seasonal activities, or personal growth in general? I’d love to hear them in a comment.
If you’d prefer not to leave a comment, you can scroll all the way down and give me a heart so I know you’re here! ❤️ Thank you, thank you. These likes truly mean a lot to me.
You can also share this newsletter:
Thanks for reading, friend!
Book newsI am so grateful for every reader who takes the time to post a review. If you’ve done that, a sincere thank you. If you haven’t yet, would you take a few minutes to add your thoughts? Reviews beget more readers in the Amazon algorithm universe.
Don’t know how to do an Amazon review? No problem, I gotcha! See my simple directions here.
Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing converge, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
April 17, 2025
A People-Pleasing Success Story
Image by Daniel Reche from PixabayThanks for reading GROWTH: Make it Personal! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
In the long process of overcoming my people-pleasing, I’ve occasionally had such dramatic moments of outspokenness that I think to myself, “Who is this woman and what has she done with Karen?”
It happened again recently.
I’m a member of Braver Angels, an organization devoted to helping Americans bridge the partisan divide. Braver Angels (BA) describes people (and asks them to self-describe) as red-leaning, blue-leaning, or purple.
The organization offers an array of tightly structured “experiences” to help people communicate about lightning-rod topics in a way that keeps the temperature down and the conversation civil. The focus is on listening to understand, not on postulating one’s own position, although BA does hold debates for that purpose.
(BTW—if you think extreme opposites can’t bridge their divides, check out my November 2024 op-ed.)
An older man I’ll call Walter, my political opposite, has been involved with the local BA alliance for several years and serves on a program planning committee with me. He’s a nice guy.
A few weeks ago, Walter asked if I’d be interested in participating in a BA experience called a 1:1 Red/Blue Conversation, where two people share their views without trying to teach or give feedback on how the other person should think or speak.
I immediately panicked.
I imagined Walter ranting against “my side,” while I listened meekly, nodding and smiling, as I seethed inside. Then I’d bitch to my husband and ruminate for days about what I wished I’d said.
Or Walter would push me to the point that I’d get snarky, full of self-righteous indignation.
No, I did not want to participate in a 1:1 with Walter.
But I said yes.
Not every yes is people-pleasing.My yes wasn’t people-pleasing. It was a conscious choice. I joined Braver Angels because I’m deeply curious about why people voted the way they did. How does a person see bad when I see good, and vice versa? I joined because I don’t want to be stuck in my echo chamber. Plus, the only way I’ll get stronger about speaking up is to continue challenging myself.
I was also reassured by the tightly structured conversation guide.
For example, here’s Question 4 and the accompanying guidelines:
What’s good about your side? Why do you think your side’s values and policies are good for the country?
Speak just about your own side and avoid comparisons that characterize the other side (“My side cares more about….”)
(Up to 5 minutes each, no cross talk.)
Walter and I held a Zoom call and worked through the steps, taking turns answering questions. He went first on Question 4. As he warmed to his topic, he veered into criticism of my side.
The old me would have responded as I indicated above—passively, with building resentment. But some other Karen was sitting in my chair that day.
The old me is not the new me.“Walter. Walter. WALTER.”
(You know how it is on Zoom when someone is talking and it drowns out the voice of the other person, and there's also that slight delay, so it took me some time to get his attention.)
“Walter, excuse me, but I think you’re straying off topic. The directions are to talk just about your own side, but you started to criticize my side.”
He made some excuses, but I interrupted and stately clearly what had happened.
“You said my side thinks your side is racist, but that my side has the real racists.”
My tone was firm but not angry; kind but not passive.
Walter seemed to consider what I’d said, then nodded sheepishly in acquiescence.
“C’mon, this is your opportunity,” I chirped. “You have the floor—tell me how great your side is!”
We both laughed, and I sat in wonderment.
Who the hell is this Karen?? I love her! She is kind and pleasant but clearly taking no crap and that’s the kind of person I always wanted to be and now I am her. Or she is me. Or whatever, but holy moly it feels great!
(Do you remember She-Bear in my memoir? I was her, only friendlier. If you haven't read my book, well, your loss, hee hee. You can buy it today, wink wink. AND, you can join this book club discussion1 about it! I won't give a spoiler other than to say that the day my son was diagnosed with a brain tumor, I had a VERY weird supernatural experience.2)
Regarding my response to Walter, I truly believe this was the first time I've politely confronted a person right to their face in the moment.
I can dwell on how sad and embarrassing it is to have been a “polite confrontation virgin” for so long, or I can celebrate that, at 66, I can still grow.
I can still grow at any age.I choose celebrate.
Prosecco, anyone? 🍾
I’m curious—how do you react to those in your circle with whom you disagree? Are you open to hearing their views? Do you delete them from your life?
If you’d prefer not to leave a comment, you can scroll all the way down and give me a heart so I know you’re here! ❤️
(I want to acknowledge that for some Americans and others living on American soil, it’s too painful to even consider listening to those who would choose to erase them. I’m willing to listen because I can and because I believe it will benefit us all.)
An invitation to you:You may suspect or know which color I lean toward, but I don’t admit my political persuasion up front because if you are other-leaning, you may automatically filter what I’m writing through your own lens and tune me out. I do it, too—it’s human nature—although that’s exactly the tendency in myself I’m fighting.
If you’re curious about having a 1:1 conversation, let me know by clicking the button below. It will only work if you lean opposite to me, but I’ll tell you my color if you tell me yours. I can’t promise I’ll move forward if I don’t know you. And I’d have to trust that you’ll follow the process. But I’m open to the possibility—one of my core tenets of life.
Another invitation!Would you love to discuss my memoir Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived with other readers? Here’s your chance!
, author of the award-winning memoir The Secret Practice: Eighteen Years on the Dark Side of Yoga, recently launched the Empowered Women Book Club.
On April 30 at 1 pm EST, my memoir is on the docket, and I will join the discussion.
With themes of people-pleasing, medical gaslighting, expectations of marriage and motherhood, not to mention obstacles in the education system...what a conversation this will be. (Scroll down to read more about Growth.)
Let me know in the comments below if you’d like the video link or request it from Joelle at joelle@joelletamraz.com. I hope to see you there!
Writing NewsI haven’t had any essays published this month, but I’ve been writing, revising, and submitting, and even finding joy in the process. Talk about growth!
If you don’t already subscribe to Growth: Make it Personal, you can sign up below to receive my monthly newsletter. Choose the FREE option, the only option I have for now!
And/or, you can share:
Book NewsI am so grateful for every reader who takes the time to post a review. If you’ve done that, a sincere thank you. If you haven’t yet, would you take a few minutes to add your thoughts? Reviews beget more readers in the Amazon algorithm universe.
Don’t know how to do an Amazon review? No problem, I gotcha! See my simple directions here.
Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing converge, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
1Join me for a book discussion about GROWTH. Empowered Woman Book Club
2I’m having a lightbulb moment about why She-Bear never reappeared to me, and when I work out what it really means, I’ll write about it here so you’ll know.
March 31, 2025
The fascinating enigmas of body and mind.
Image by Pexels from PixabayEarlier this month, Michael and I took a short trip to Cape Cod before driving to Boston to visit our grandson (and his parents, of course). Two days before we left, I developed what I thought might be a UTI.
To save you the blow-by-blow of my subsequent week, suffice it to say that it included an urgent care visit and an antibiotic that made me sick and a bout of what I thought might be the Norovirus or could have been food poisoning but was probably my sensitive body’s reaction to a very rich shrimp dish. Then the culture came back negative and a cycle of on-again off-again symptoms and medication ensued for the second time.
In between all this, I actually felt pretty good, and we had a lovely trip.
Back home, on Tuesday, March 25, I woke with a splitting headache, nausea, diarrhea, and urgent, burning, frequent (like, every five minutes) urination. I had a noon speaking engagement that day, a paid gig at the local community college. My grand entrance to the speaking circuit, where I would present my signature program, Wipe Your Feet Before You Walk All Over Me.
I could not miss it.
As I primped for my appearance, I had to lie down to rest three times. Peeing probably ate up two hours of my morning, and I bet I trudged three miles back and forth to the bathroom. No wonder I was exhausted.
And yet…
And yet, when I strode onto that stage, I was on fire. Not feverish, but energized and engaged. Doing what I love to do. Showcasing my unique brand of education, storytelling, and yes-you-can inspiration.1
My body fully cooperated with my mindful intentions.
One of my grad school professors told a similar story. Dr. P. was scheduled to be the keynote speaker at a corporate event but came down with a severe stomach bug. He called the CEO to say he’d send a replacement, but the CEO insisted no one else would do. So Dr. P. had a friend drive him to the venue while the poor professor sat with a bucket between his knees, vomiting. He gave his high-energy presentation, then got back in the car and vomited on the way home.
Like Dr. P., after I returned home, I returned to feeling like shit.
Mind over matter? The body-mind connection?
I’m not suggesting that physical illnesses are all in our heads. I now have new culture results confirming that my urinary tract is a bacterial mess.
But I’m in awe of the power of our thoughts, beliefs, and intentions, wondering how I can harness them in the future.
What do you make of this? Have you had a similar experience? Let me know in the comments.
(If you’d prefer not to leave a comment, you can scroll all the way down and give me a heart so I know you’re here! ❤️)
You are Invited!Would you love to discuss my memoir Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived with other readers? Here’s your chance!
, author of the award-winning memoir The Secret Practice: Eighteen Years on the Dark Side of Yoga, recently launched the Empowered Women Book Club.
On April 30 at 1 pm EST, my memoir is on the docket, and I will join the discussion.
With themes of people-pleasing, medical gaslighting, expectations of marriage and motherhood, not to mention obstacles in the education system...what a conversation this will be. (Scroll down to read more about Growth.)
Let me know in the comments below if you’d like the video link or request it from Joelle at joelle@joelletamraz.com. I hope to see you there!
Writing NewsMy essay in the January/February print edition of Writer’s Digest Magazine is now reborn online, and it’s hitting a chord with readers:
My No-Show Book Talk Was the Best Thing to Happen to Me as a Writer
In fact, interviewed me about this turn of events on her podcast Read and Write with Natasha. I hope you’ll listen.
I also had this essay published in Business Insider:
I'm 66 and don't work full-time anymore. I consider myself 'fluidly retired.'
To mix things up and expand my writing chops, I’m going to spend the next few weeks or months working on and submitting literary essays. This type of prose requires a different creative muscle than writing for mainstream publications. Here’s an example. I’m excited about the challenge!
If you don’t already subscribe to Growth: Make it Personal, you can sign up below to receive my monthly newsletter. Choose the FREE option, the only option I have for now!
And/or, you can share:
Book NewsIt’s been a while since I received a new Amazon review, and this one made me cry, in a good way.
Could there be a more appropriate title than “Growth” for this powerful and compelling memoir from Karen DeBonis? The reference to her son’s benign brain tumor diagnosis is clear, but just as clear is the personal and emotional growth DeBonis experienced through this challenging time. She writes powerfully and authentically of her difficult struggles to find her voice to advocate for her son and herself. It’s a two-steps-forward-and-one-step back process, and DeBonis doesn’t gloss over her false starts, failings, and disappointments. This superbly written tale is one of triumph in the face of frightening and complex trials.
I am so grateful for every reader who takes the time to post a review. If you’ve done that, a sincere thank you. If you haven’t yet, would you take a few minutes to add your thoughts? Reviews beget more readers in the Amazon algorithm universe.
Don’t know how to do an Amazon review? No problem, I gotcha! See my simple directions here.
Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing collide, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
1If you can suggest a college where I might offer this presentation, please let me know at contact@karendebonis.com. Thank you!
February 27, 2025
Conflict aversion/avoidance
Image by Gerd Altmann from PixabayThanks for reading GROWTH: Make it Personal! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
A few weeks ago, I wrote a Facebook post about an Elon Musk comment on X (his post was later deleted). When I get political on social media, which is rare, I usually quote a person’s actual words and let them speak for themselves with minimal commentary from me.
Musk’s post:
“Maybe if they tried harder, blind people could see the future. Just saying.”
I commented that his post was insulting to people with vision loss. An acquaintance pushed back and said his comment was metaphorical.
Immediately, my heart started pounding so loudly I could almost hear it in my head. It was a fight or flight response, a mini panic attack.
I've grown a lot in overcoming my people-pleasing since I re-embarked on writing my memoir in 2016. Spilling my truth on the page and reading what I wrote confronted me with how often I placed the needs and desires of others above my own, even to the detriment of my son’s health.
GROWTH in overcoming people-pleasingI'm better about setting boundaries and speaking up but I'm still conflict-averse/avoidant. (“Averse,” meaning I dislike or fear conflict, i.e., my emotional response; “avoidant,” meaning my behavioral pattern.)
Was my Facebook exchange even really a conflict? I stated my opinion and a person expressed an opposing opinion, as happens in common human discourse. Yet I reacted as if it was a threat.
In trying to unpack my pattern of responding, I’ve concluded that it's a combination of:
Anger. This is my post and you have no right to express your disagreement.
Self-righteousness. How can you possibly not see the truth of what I've said?
Fear. Uh-oh. You’re mad, and that’s scary.
My response was not PTSD from a violent or troubled childhood, because my upbringing was nearly idyllic, except that I never learned how to handle conflict.
I replied to the acquaintance that I didn’t interpret Musk’s post as metaphorical, and that ended our interaction.
I can’t imagine I’m alone in my response to perceived conflict. How do you react to disagreement or conflict? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.
In writing news, I’ve again decided to embrace being a writer. It took me a while to own the moniker after I jumpstarted my long-idle memoir nine years ago. Then, a few months ago, I was so burned out by book marketing and jaded by the writing industry that I seriously thought about calling it quits.
My first writing business card, circa 2018. My tagline is “Memoirist. Writer of creative nonfiction. Gardener. In between, I nap.”Recently, though, I found balance (through sewing, of all things), and I again realized “I am a writer.”
GROWTH in my identityEven better, I am a writer who writes, and I've had success recently with both paid and unpaid published essays:
Clutter used to cause conflict in my marriage. I had a breakthrough.
How I Stood Up for Myself Despite My People-Pleasing Ways.
Also forthcoming in The Ethel, Writer’s Digest, Business Insider
******************************************************
Plus, here are two new podcasts I guested on:
About This Life podcast with Ann-Marie Mahoney. From Motherhood to She-Bear: Journey of Courage and Advocacy
Healing Words podcast with Pamela Nichols. Instinct and Inner Healing.
I still haven't decided if I'm done marketing my memoir Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.
I celebrate that I wrote the book I intended to write and marketed it to the best of my ability. But my book is whispering to me. I need just a little bit more. You're not done with me yet. You worked so hard to spread my message and some readers still need to hear it.
Could this be the Facebook/Instagram effect? I see friends getting agents, landing book deals, selling more books than me. Do I covet their achievements? Or is there really more I need to do?
GROWTH in accepting uncertaintyI don't need to have an answer right now. I’m OK sitting in this liminal space. I know the truth will reveal itself to me at the right time.
Speaking of writer friends and their success, had a whirlwind of hugely successful launch events last week for her beautiful book The Full Catastrophe. Our critique group—”Writers Tears”—was heavily involved. This is us, left to right: , Casey, me, . I’m honored to call each of these warm, talented, badass writers “friend.”
Thanks for hanging in there almost to the end of this month’s post! I’d hug you if I could, but this gold star will have to suffice: ⭐️
If you’d like to share your thoughts, here you go:
If you’d prefer not to leave a comment, you can scroll all the way down and give me a heart so I know you’re here! ❤️
If you don’t already subscribe, you can sign up below to receive my monthly newsletter. Choose the FREE option, the only option I have for now!
And/or, you can share:
GROWTH—The book.Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing collide, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
January 14, 2025
Post-publication retirement.
Image by Pexels from PixabayEditorial note: My heart goes out to all who have lost so much in the California wildfires. Looking for ways to help? Here’s a list of places taking donations.
I hate when I'm filling out a form and need to specify my retirement date. Was it September 2016, shortly before I turned 58, when I left work on medical leave due to my chronic gut problems? Was it a date two years later, when my disability benefits ran out? Was it a random date in the subsequent few years when I realized I’d never again work full-time? I’ve filled out different dates on different forms; I should probably pick one and be consistent.
What does it mean to be retired, anyway? Practically the minute I had to abandon my health education career in 2016, I reignited my decades-old goal to publish my memoir. I spent so many looong days bringing my book to publication, I barely had a chance to rest on my laurels. After Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived was published in May 2023, marketing began in earnest and continued until the end of 2024. Then, the holidays and some fun sewing projects* (related to last month’s announcement about my pending Nana-hood!) kept me busy.
One recent January morning, sitting in the living room with my coffee, staring out the window and thinking about nothing in particular, I had the thought, “Oh! This is how retirement feels.” Peaceful, yet invigorating. Calm, yet stimulating. Having choices about how to spend my day.
Now what do I do?How do I want to spend my day? That’s the $19.99 question. (The cost of my paperback.)
When I ran out of book marketing steam toward the end of 2024, I thought maybe I was ready to move on, to be happy enough being a published author and having my memoir out in the world.
Except…
My book sales have been disappointing. Better than most debut memoirs, even wildly better, but still less than I’d hoped.
Despite having done my due diligence in learning all the “How-tos,” I spent many hours and dollars promoting my book only to receive a disheartening return.
I’m immensely proud of my accomplishment, proud of the book I wrote, humbled by the reviews, and touched by the comments of readers, many of whom reached out to thank me personally. But I want my story to touch more readers. Open more eyes to the dangers of people-pleasing, the prevalence of medical gaslighting, and the realities of parenting a child with atypical educational or medical needs.
It’s not about making money because, well, I make very little per book.
It’s about honoring the journey—the one I lived and the one I wrote.
To honor my journey, I want to open more eyes to the dangers of people-pleasingMy three critique partners (we call ourselves Writer’s Tears...if you know, you know) are talented, award-winning writers, all deserving of their book successes.
Casey Mulligan Walsh has a memoir coming out in a month. The Full Catastrophe: All I Ever Wanted, Everything I Feared already has over 100 positive reviews on GoodReads.
Mimi Zieman, who wrote Tap Dancing on Everest, sells more books in a single book talk than I sell in ten.
Eileen Vorbach Collins sold as many copies of Love in the Archives: A Patchwork of True Stories about Suicide Loss in two months as I did in eight.
I'm thrilled for my friend’s hard-fought successes and honored to promote their beautiful work. I’m also envious. And sad.
Have I not done right by my story? Does it deserve better?
Maybe I should let go of my sadness and trust that the universe has other plans for me. Maybe my book has served its intended purpose and reached the people it was meant to reach.
Or is my sadness telling me I’m not ready to quit? That I need to do more?
That’s where I’m at right now, friends. There’s no narrative arc to this newsletter; the protagonist shows no growth. She is stuck.
Do you have wisdom to help guide me? I’d love your thoughts.
(Scroll all the way down to share a comment and/or give me a heart so I know you’re here. ❤️ Thanks in advance.)
*In other news, I am officially a Nana to baby Miles! That’s all I’ll say, out of respect for the proud parent’s wishes to limit social media exposure of the baby. But I’ve been sewing up a storm and here’s a photo of one fun project.
Writing NewsI am honored to have an article published in the print edition of Writer’s Digest! By next month, the digital version will be live and I’ll share the link.
Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing collide, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
Heads up, friends:In the past, you didn’t need an account to like or comment on a post, but you do need one now.
I moved my subscriber list here from Mailchimp to make it easier to have conversations. Sorry for the inconvenience. I’d love you to follow the prompts below and create an account. It’s super quick and IT DOESN’T COST A THING!!
Once you click on the heart (to like) or the speech bubble (to comment) you’ll be prompted to set up an account (or profile) which requires very little personal info and takes only one minute of your time.
THANKS!
December 17, 2024
Why it's important to ask "Why me?"
Pretending to be old when we were still clueless.When my grandmother was in her 90s, she needed to be wheelchaired through the airport. Embarrassed and humiliated, she whined like a petulant child. Once, she told me, “I never thought this would happen to me.” From my perspective of youth and good health, I thought, What did you expect of old age?
When my mother at 80-something needed an airport wheelchair, she had a better attitude about aging and its accouterments. She wasn’t exactly happy, but she was resigned and cooperative.
Last week, I flew to see my sister in Chicago, and—not for the first time—I needed a wheelchair to get through O’Hare Airport. I’m 66.
Depending on your perspective, I’m either unfortunate or blessed.In The Weird Surprise of Growing Old, which coincidentally appeared in my inbox as I worked on this newsletter, author Catherine Hiller states, “I don’t know a single person of 70 or older who is not astonished that they, too, have grown old.”
It’s not that I’m an early bloomer of surprise, it’s that I don’t consider myself old, and yet there I was in that damn wheelchair.
I was grateful for the assistance. My bionic but underperforming, painful knees could not have carried me from plane to taxi. When I ventured away from the gate with my cane in search of a snack or restroom, people were helpful—almost too helpful— stepping aside to let me pass, treating me with deference better saved for the truly elderly.
It’s comforting to know kind people still exist (although as a white, cis woman, I wonder if the same people would be equally kind to someone not like me). And yet, something about the too-niceness bugged me. It made me feel old. Helpless. Self-conscious. I didn’t want to depend on others. I wanted to hold my own. I wanted to be perfectly capable of getting through the airport and fighting the crowds without assistance, thank you very much.
Except I was not capable. Am not capable—not for the foreseeable future, anyway—and I resent it. As my grandmother said, I never thought this would happen to me. Maybe in my 80s or 90s, but not in my 60s.
Depending on your perspective, I’m either unfortunate or blessed.
In the seats in front of me on the plane sat a woman around my age with her adult daughter who had obvious physical disabilities and appeared to be nonverbal. I overheard the woman say they were flying on to Houston. For this twosome, as for many others, a wheelchair may represent freedom and the opportunity for adventure. * For me, my chair felt limiting and confining.
If I dare to ask Why me of life’s inconveniences—Why did my dual knee replacements fail?—I must also ask Why me of life’s privileges. Why did I get six decades of relatively good health? Why was I blessed with a secure middle-class existence? Why has my marriage of 42 years lasted?
Why did my son survive his childhood brain tumor when other children did not?
If I dare to ask Why me of life’s inconveniences, I must also ask Why me of life’s privileges.Asking Why me? in this way is a good reality check, a reminder that I am not more special or deserving of blessings than anyone else. If a cane, the occasional wheelchair, and painful knees are the worst the universe has to throw at me right now, then thank you, universe. I’ll (attempt to) handle the challenges with grace and humility.
In our circle of life, we never know what radii of events will intersect the circle, nor when. As I come to terms with what feels like old-age radii, new beginnings are also intersecting with my life.
Image by Pexels from PixabayMy son Steve and his wife Paige are expecting their first baby!
Grandparenting, here I comeThe baby is going to be a boy and, in a couple of weeks, I’m going to be a Nana.
“Nana” wasn't a moniker I liked at first. Almost 40 years ago, when I suggested to my mother that she go by Nana, she thought it sounded boring. Old-fashioned. But the name stuck and she was a fun, engaged, loving grandmother.
When considering my own grandmotherly identity, I also thought Nana sounded old-fashioned. Yet no other name seemed to fit. Now that I’ve embraced it, I have a sense of matriarchal history, my Nana and my children’s Nana channeling their wisdom through me.
My grandson will grow up a few hours away from me. I wish he lived within a few miles or minutes, but again, I ask Why me? Why am I blessed with a child who found a loving partner, both of whom are healthy enough to bear a child with whom I am welcome to build a relationship?
I don’t for a moment take the privilege for granted, and again, I thank the universe for the blessing.
In the coming years, no matter how my body ages, I’ll do whatever it takes to visit that sweet baby. If I have to wheel myself down the Massachusetts Turnpike and across mountains, over the river and through the woods 🎶, one thought will propel me:
This is an expectation of aging I’m glad to see fulfilled.
Image by Petra from PixabayI’ll leave you with the holiday wish I offer every year:
Stuff yourself with joy Gorge on goodwill Drink in all the love you can find.
*Two of my favorite people who write about disabilities are and Jaclyn Greenberg.
Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing collide, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
Heads up, friends:In the past, you didn’t need an account to like or comment on a post, but you do need one now.
I moved my subscriber list here from Mailchimp to make it easier to have conversations. Sorry for the inconvenience. I’d love you to follow the prompts below and create an account. It’s super quick and IT DOESN’T COST A THING!!
Once you click on the heart (to like) or the speech bubble (to comment) you’ll be prompted to set up an account (or profile) which requires very little personal info and takes only one minute of your time.
THANKS!
November 17, 2024
A writing life experiment
What will grow from my experiment? Image by Ilona Ilyés from PixabayI've been experimenting lately with living a non-writing life. Or perhaps I should say an “occasional” writing life because here I am, right?
Anyway, I've been much happier since I started this experiment, oh, about five days ago. After the shock of the election began to wear off.
Before November 5, I tried so hard to write words that mattered. I wrote Facebook posts. I wrote about the importance of not gloating if my candidate won. I wrote an op-ed that appeared in my local newspaper.
Full disclosure—I wanted to influence undecided voters to choose Kamala Harris. It’s pretty egotistic, now that I think about it. That the handful of readers who could potentially (i.e., in a million years) be swayed by my argument would matter in a national election. Jeeze oh man, to use a saying from my Pittsburgh upbringing, what was I thinking?
I also wanted to make the case that voters from political opposites can find common ground. All I found was a choir half-listening to me preach.
And, of course, Kamala lost. My words felt wasted.
Around the same time, several publications rejected my essays I thought they couldn’t live without. I guested on podcasts few people listen to and I have a program in a few days that no one has yet registered for. (See below. You, yes YOU, can be the first to sign up!)
The writing life is not for sissies.
I don’t LOVE writing; it’s important and purposeful, so I’ll continue, but only when I am burning with something to say. Like this morning.
My new occasional writing life, BTW, has been filled with creative projects that bring me joy and have little risk of rejection. Tactile, visual arts have always called to me. Like sewing—I’m having a blast with “low-risk creating”* since I got a new machine last year. And drywall patching in the basement. Do not laugh. There is great skill involved, and the satisfaction is visceral.
But writers write to figure themselves out, you might say, to process the world and all its intricacies.
You are right. At heart, though, I am and have always been a verbal processor. The trouble is, I process only snippets of my rabbit hole of thoughts because I don't want to overwhelm my husband, my sister, my friends, my mom when she was alive. Otherwise—unless I’m in therapy, where I get the whole hour to talk about myself without apologies or regrets—I keep the maelstrom to myself.
Right now, I don't have a therapist, and I don't have the drive to find a new one. So guess what readers? You're it.
I’m going to use this space to write only when I have something to say or something to figure out. You might hear from me a few days in a row. Or every two months. At noon or whenever. It’s a personal growth experiment, so I’m not going to set too many rules.
Let’s see what happens. I hope you’ll follow along.
***
*I’ll write about “low-risk creating” someday when I feel the burning desire to do so. Yes, I will include photos!
MEMOIR INFO AND NEWSUpcoming event in Saratoga Springs, NY:
Growth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing collide, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
Heads up, friends:In the past you didn’t need an account to like or comment on a post, but you do need one now.
Darn! I moved my subscriber list here from Mailchimp to make it easier to have conversations. Sorry for the inconvenience. I’d love it if you would follow the prompts below and create an account. It’s super quick!
Once you click on the heart (to like) or the speech bubble (to comment) you’ll be prompted to set up an account (or profile) which requires very little personal info and takes only one minute of your time.
THANKS!
October 24, 2024
I won't gloat. Will you?
Extending an election season olive branchThis post is not about politics per se. I’m not going to name names or parties or colors. I’m not going to say who I’ll vote for in the 2024 US presidential election on November 5 or comment on who you may vote for.
It’s not even the type of post that I’ll typically write here.
But I feel compelled to write about compassion and empathy and humanity in the midst of this chaotic, scary, angry political season.
It feels urgent to say that, if my “team” wins, I will not gloat.
Gloating is off my table.To gloat is to "observe or think about something with triumphant and often malicious satisfaction, gratification, or delight.”
It’s so tempting, right? It would feel sooo good.
Privately, you can observe or think whatever you like, and thumb your nose at whomever you choose. Overtly and publicly exulting in their loss, however, is mean-spirited. Hurtful.
I’m less concerned about our elected officials, by the way, and more focused on the electorate—our neighbors and friends and family whose team loses.
When the stakes are as high as they are in 2024 America, losing the election will open a gaping wound in the hearts of half of our population.
Does it feel good to pour on the Morton’s and, like a mortar and pestle, grind away?
That’s not me, and I bet it’s not you. To hurt the hurting is to dehumanize them.
To hurt the hurting is to dehumanize them.Here’s Brene Brown’s take on dehumanization:
It “often starts with creating an enemy image. As we take sides, lose trust, and get angrier and angrier, we not only solidify an idea of our enemy, but also start to lose our ability to listen, communicate, and practice even a modicum of empathy.”
Sound familiar? I must hear or read a version of the “enemy image” 50 times a day on one device or another, as well as billboards and yard signs. Big and little players on each team are both prey and predator.
It’s easy to believe only “they” engage in this behavior. “Not me,” we declare, offended at the very thought.
But, according to Lizabeth Roemer, Ph.D. and Josh Bartok in Psychology Today:
“Recognizing a tendency in ourselves to see others whose actions we object to as less than fully human can help us interrupt cycles of violence and retaliation.”
I’ll emphasize that last statement:
We can interrupt cycles of violence and retaliation.
Seeing the humanity of individuals is a violence-interrupter.Gloating over the losing team is not going to make them slink away in shame. They will dig in their heels, refuse to open their minds, and the cycle will repeat every four years. If our democracy survives.
I’m not naive. I read about the haters and extremists on both sides who would skip the Mortons and grab a sack of rock-sized sea salt to inflict more damage.
Aside from that noisy minority, however, the rest of us are people with hearts who care about others and who don’t like to see anyone suffer, even if they oppose us politically.
If I’m jumping for joy because my candidate wins, I’m going to remember that a beautiful individual with a heart and soul is crushed and in pain. If I’m crying with relief, I’m going to think of the people who live on my street, shop in the same grocery store as me, work out at the same gym, who are weeping in distress. They fear for their livelihood, their communities, their future.
If my team wins, I may be confident that our country is on the right track, but fans of the other team will wring their hands as they imagine our collective demise.
Regardless of who wins, things will get ugly. But by engaging in this simple act of radical resistance—refusing to gloat—I’ll be doing my small part to bring healing to our country.
If you don’t believe me that healing is possible, that we can, indeed, find common ground, I invite you to watch this three-minute video:
I don’t know if I’m courageous enough to stand with haters like Daryl Davis does. I’m conflict-averse on a good day, so the vitriol of politics makes me want to hide in my basement. I’m terrified about our future if my team loses, and I hope I don’t have to write a post about that scenario.
Whatever the outcome, I will remember our shared humanity. You and me—we’re in this together. There’s much we can’t control, but kindness and compassion will get my vote every time.
What about you?
MEMOIR INFO AND NEWSGrowth: A Mother, Her Son, and the Brain Tumor They Survived.Medical gaslighting and a mother’s people-pleasing collide, shattering her expectations of motherhood and threatening the survival of her young son.
Click here for purchase linksKaren is a happily married, slightly frazzled working mother of two when her eight-year-old son, Matthew, develops a strange eye-rolling tic. Gradually, her high-energy kid becomes clumsy and lethargic, her “Little Einstein” a gifted program dropout. Karen knows something is wrong. But she can't get anyone to listen and lacks the backbone to crack the resistance. After three exhausting, desperate years, finally, an MRI reveals the truth: a brain tumor, squishing Matthew's brain into a sliver against his skull. Following a delicate surgery, doctors predict a complete recovery. But the damage from the delayed diagnosis prolongs Matthew's recovery, challenging Karen to grow in ways she never imagined.
A fast-paced page-turner told with candor, insight, and wit, Growth takes you on a rollercoaster of painful truths and hard-won transformations.
Available where books are sold or see purchase links here.
Where to listen to GROWTH on audiobook:More retailers will soon offer my book, so if your favorite listening site isn't included, check back in next month's newsletter.
Heads up, friends:In the past you didn’t need an account to like or comment on a post, but you do need one now.
Darn! I moved my subscriber list here from Mailchimp to make it easier to have conversations. Sorry for the inconvenience. I’d love it if you would follow the prompts below and create an account. It’s super quick!
Once you click on the heart (to like) or the speech bubble (to comment) you’ll be prompted to set up an account (or profile) which requires very little personal info and takes only one minute of your time.
THANKS!
