Allison Vesterfelt's Blog, page 4

Why You Always Get Taken for Granted (And How to Quit)

The truth is, if you’re a genuinely nice person, you’re bound to get taken for granted in this world. I wish this weren’t the case, but sadly, if you’re kind, caring, sensitive, and empathetic, you’re naturally a magnet for narcissists, manipulators, addicts, and people who are willing to take more from you than they have to give in return.

You do not have to stay stuck in this pattern.

But I wouldn’t be surprised if, already, you’ve walked around this block a dozen or more times.

It has certainly been a repeating pattern in my life.

It has taken decades for me to come to the end of my rope on this pattern. There’s a saying about this: the pain of staying the same has to become worse than the pain of changing before you’ll actually do it. Well, after dozens of demanding bosses and controlling boyfriends and failed romantic relationships and “loans” that have never been paid back, I’m there.

I’m at the end of my rope. I’m changing.

Here are a few things I’m learning.

Navigating cold space.

The term “cold space” was coined by my therapist.

She is the first one who told me I needed to get better at navigating “cold space”. By cold space, she means the natural space and distance that exists in any relationship between who I am and who you are. In other words, this is the distance between the two of us when you have a different opinion from me, when you want to go for a walk and I want to watch TV, when you like Chinese food and I like Mexican.

In any healthy relationship, there is cold space. It’s not a negative thing. It’s just a thing.

Some of us are better at navigating it than others.

When cold space is present in a relationship, some of us will be so uncomfortable with it, we will do anything we can to close the gap. When someone is upset with us, we immediately try to make things right—change our position, change our mind, change our actions. For those of us who share this tendency, we find ourselves constantly moving toward, even if it means abandoning our own preference or opinion.

You always find yourself eating Chinese when you’d rather have Mexican, or watching Netflix when you’d rather be walking.

If this is you, what an incredible quality you have. Your generosity and empathy and willingness to “go with the flow” have served you very well in life; and will continue to serve you well in your relationships. And, at the same time, it will get you into trouble if you don’t learn how to temper it.

Think about it: if all a person has to do to get me to change my position is to pull away a little bit… it makes me an easy target for manipulation and control.

On the other hand, if I can learn the art of allowing distance in a relationship—when what I want is not what you want, and vice versa, where we don’t perfectly align—this opens the opportunity for the relationship to grow stronger. Absence make the heart grow fonder, right? Cold space in a relationship may not need to be fixed. It may simply, at times, need to be tolerated.




Getting good at navigating cold space means:

Holding space for yourself even when someone else can’t or won’t
Standing your ground, owning your opinion, using your voice
Learning to live in the tension of someone not being happy with you
Making a decision that is right for you—even if it is not immediately good for someone else.
Giving yourself permission to be different

Does loneliness make you a target?

There is research that shows lonely people are more likely to be taken advantage of. While I can’t say I’m surprised, I had also never thought about this before I read this article by Anita E. Kelly.

Lonely people… are easy targets for exploitation, as demonstrated by John Cacioppo and his colleagues in 2006. These researchers recruited lonely and non-lonely people for a game of negotiation. They used a variant of the classic economics game in which one person is assigned to the role of “proposer” and the other to the role of “decider”. The proposer starts with a sum of money and is told that he or she can offer the decider any portion of that money. If the decider accepts the offer, both get to keep their respective portions. However, if the decider rejects the offer, neither gets to keep the money….

It turns out that the lonely players, as compared to the non-lonely ones, accepted significantly more unfair offers. Cacioppo argued that acceptance of such exploitation sets up the lonely person for even more exploitation.

Did you catch that? The “acceptance of such exploitation sets up the lonely person for even more explanation”—which means this tendency of being taken advantage of is a vicious cycle—one that won’t be broken without a considerable amount of awareness and effort on our parts.

If you’re lonely—and most of us are lonely to some extent in this culture of loneliness—perhaps the first thing to do is to admit how lonely you are, since we cannot heal what we do not acknowledge. Then, we can work to do the things we know turn down the volume on our loneliness: reach out when we want to isolate, tell the truth, and acknowledge how truly supported we already are.

I love these words by the great poet David Whyte. They have been particularly comforting to me in the months since I first read them:

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into

the conversation. The kettle is singing

even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots

have left their arrogant aloofness and

seen the good in you at last. All the birds

and creatures of the world are unutterably

themselves. Everything is waiting for you…

The truth is none of us are ever alone. We are so supported, so surrounded, so completely taken care of.

All we have to do is open our eyes.

Set small boundaries.

When we talk about setting boundaries, usually we start by talking about saying “no”. Learn to say “no” to too many social activities, say “no” to a friend who asks you a favor, say “no” to lending somebody money. And sure, of course there is so much value in that. But for those of us who struggle with setting boundaries in the first place, what if we didn’t have to jump all the way to saying NO?

What if we could start by setting smaller boundaries?

So not as much “no” as “yes… and…”

Here’s the example my therapist gave me (aren’t you excited about all this free therapy I’m passing on to you?) She asked me to consider what would happen if, when someone asked me to meet at 12pm, I suggested we do 12:15 instead. In other words, I’m agreeing to the meeting, but asking the person I’m meeting to come my direction—just a little bit. It’s really a tiny distance. Nothing at all, actually. Totally unthreatening.

It’s practice. That’s what she called it. Practice asking people who love me to come my way, just a little bit.

What I found was that most people are really very receptive to asking them to come your way. Sure, no problem. That’s easy. And the people who were unwilling to budge, the ones who fly off the handle when you express a need, or who turn cold and try to manipulate you when you don’t do things their way… well, that’s a really great way to tell which relationships may need to end.

They may not have the capacity to give to you the way you are giving to them.

Decide you are worth more.

The reason so many of us choose relationships in our life where the balance is off is because it gives us a tremendous excuse not to actualize our own potential.

I love this quote by Marianne Williamson in her book A Woman’s Worth:

There are payoffs for holding onto small, weak patterns. We have an excuse not to shine. We don’t have to take responsibility for the world when we’re spending all of our time in emotional pain. We’re too busy. The truth that sets us free is an embrace of the divine within us. It means remembering we are the daughters of God and daughters of God don’t break for jerks.

When a woman falls in love with the magnificent possibilities within herself, the forces that would limit those possibilities hold less and less sway over her. A relationship that keeps us tied to the push and pull of co-dependent neurosis is a block to our shining. When we are very clear that we want to shine—then we attract into our lives the kind of relationships that help us to do that. Until a woman has given herself permission to be fabulous, she will not find herself with partners who promote her ability to do so.

This is hugely liberating, although it’s also challenging because it requires us taking a tremendous amount of responsibility for the quality of relationships in our lives. Are you constantly taken for granted?

Maybe that’s because, in a weird way, you want to be taken for granted.

It gets you off the hook.




The only way to combat this negative pattern, I am learning, is to do as Marianne Williamson calls it: fall in love with the magnificent possibilities within yourself. You have to decide you are radiant, beautiful, completely and totally worthy of shining. You have to decide that what is inside of you is so magnificent, it would be a crime to allow anyone in your life to block you from sharing it.

Affirmations

If you are like most people and recognizing your worth is not something that comes naturally to you, there’s a great book I would recommend to you by Louise Hay called You Can Heal Your Life. This was the first book I read that helped me understand how big of a role my thoughts and beliefs were playing in shaping my circumstances.

From there, I began learning how to shift them.

The only way to change negative thought patterns—the stories we’ve told ourselves over and over and over again—is to tell ourselves a different story, and to do it as many times as we heard the first story.

So if you’ve been silently saying to yourself, “you’re such a screw up” every day for decades, it’s going to take as many times of saying, “you are doing a good job” before you can re-route that old, bad habit.

Give yourself permission to walk away

Walking away from relationships isn’t always the right choice. Sometimes we can learn more from staying in a tough relationship—as uncomfortable as it is—than we can from walking away. But there are times when the strongest thing we can do is walk away. As counter-intuitive as it may seem, this can actually be best for both people in the relationship.

Someone who is taking you for granted is getting off the hook, too. What they are stealing from you is preventing them from discovering what they have to give. what you are giving to them is preventing you from seeing what you truly have to offer.

Letting go gives everyone the opportunity to look inside of themselves.

Ultimately, the most important thing to remember is this: nobody can take you for granted unless you let them. (Tweet that)

Give yourself permission, when you are giving a relationship more than you are getting from it, to walk away. This is not selfish. You aren’t being needy. You are being brave. You are holding onto yourself at all costs—the most valuable thing you have. You are so very strong.

You do not have to stay trapped in relationships that are stealing your energy and your joy. You can end the pattern. It is not easy, but it is possible.

I know because I’m doing it.

I hope you’ll join me.

Additional Resources:

Too Good to Leave, Too Bad to Stay by Mira Kirschenbaum
Necessary Endings by Dr. Henry Cloud
You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay
Everything is Waiting for You by David Whyte
Are You Being Taken Advantage Of? Maybe It’s Because You’re Lonely by Anita E. Kelly

The post Why You Always Get Taken for Granted (And How to Quit) appeared first on Allison Fallon.

Swimming In Love (a Poem)

I wrote this poem recently for a friend after a long conversation about all the things we worried about for the future. After we talked, I walked away and the words that came over me went like this: how could you possibly be afraid? All is love. You are swimming in love. I hope you enjoy.

Swimming in Love

Here we are, just swimming in love

and wondering 

what’s going to happen next Tuesday 

and if this thing or that thing is the right one or

the wrong one.

Here we are

worried about money and bills and

heaven and hell and where to live and

what it means that we have fallen 

again.

And here we are, just swimming in love. 

Here we are—just swimming in love,

frantic over sales and business growth

and Twitter followings

and who does or doesn’t “like” us

online.

And here we are, my dear,

just swimming, swimming, swimming

in love.

Here we are, just swimming in love 

and questioning everyone, including ourselves, 

wondering when we’ll be left

next because

we’ve always been left before. 

Here we are, 

waning in strength, in peace, 

in joy, in power 

because… 

What we don’t know can hurt us

and what we don’t know is

we’re swimming in love.

I am not afraid of the fire inside of me 

anymore. I am not afraid of my power, or yours

because here we are, more beautiful

than we ever imagined. 

Here we are, just swimming in love. 

The post Swimming In Love (a Poem) appeared first on Allison Fallon.

How to Keep Moving Forward When You Are Heartbroken

I got a text from a friend recently that said: “When you are heartbroken, how can you stop the swirling, spinning thoughts that seem to derail you? How can you keep moving forward?”

Her question came at an interesting time for me, since I had just spent most of my night spinning and swirling exactly the way she was talking about. It’s amazing how one minute you can think you’re doing fine and then the next minute you see something you didn’t mean to see online, or the person who was supposed to call doesn’t call, or the pieces of the puzzle of your life don’t fall exactly as you planned—and suddenly you realize how fragile you’ve been all along.

That’s where I was. It’s where she was, too.

So I called her. We talked for maybe 20 minutes, but 20 minutes was all it took. What I told her on our call that day was really what I was telling myself. I should have been looking in a mirror. In case it helps, I thought I’d pass it on to you, too.

Here’s how you keep moving forward when you are heartbroken.

You tell yourself how normal this is.

Sometimes half the challenge of heartbreak is just reminding ourselves we aren’t crazy. We walk around the world most days, looking at all the people so perfectly dressed and perfectly put together, and assume we are the only ones struggling. We assume we’re the only ones with toxic thoughts, with messed up beliefs, with bad days.

We’re the only ones who cry in our beds at night eating a pint of chocolate peanut butter ice cream.

It is this lie that keeps us isolated, that keeps us feeling like something must be wrong with us, that keeps us stuck in a pit of shame, rather acceptance and love. Most of the battle is just reminding ourselves, “this is so normal. This is so totally normal. This is a part of the human experience. Everyone who has ever lived and loved has felt this feeling. It won’t last forever. This will be better tomorrow.”

You are normal. This is normal. You are going to be okay.

You call people. You call everyone you know.

I told her that she should put her 10 best friends on speed dial—the kind of friends who don’t require her to put on any kind of performance in order to be friends with them, the kind who let her show up wearing the same clothes two days in a row because she was too sad to change. I told her to call those friends when she was feeling this way.

Call all of them.

When they answered, I told her, she didn’t really need to say anything except maybe, “I’m feeling sad,” or “I’m heartbroken,” or “I’m not okay right this minute…” I’m not sure why our tendency is to isolate when we are feeling heartbroken, but this would be missing the point.

This is the very time to reach out, stay connected, stay with.

You make peace with what is true.

I once heard Lissa Rakin say, “You do not have to do anything right now. You simply need to make peace with what is true.” That was such a comfort to my anxious, busy, perfectionistic self. Why is it that, when our thoughts are spinning and swirling, our first instinct is to DO? Why do we want so badly to perform, hustle, act, go, change, call, drive, fix, control?

When the ONE thing that would bring us peace is to sit still, to be with ourselves and to accept what is true. You do not need to fix, change, alter, or grow. Not yet. All you need to do is make peace.

It’s surrender. Not struggle.

A list of things that are true might look like this:

I am single
I want _______ but I can’t have it right now
I am sad
I may not be “okay” for awhile
I am adjusting to a new normal
I do not feel strong today
I feel overwhelmed

What if it is not your circumstances that are making you miserable, like you imagined, but what if what is making you miserable is your resistance to your circumstances?

Can you allow the things that are true to be true?

After all, they ARE true, whether you allow them to be or not.

When we let go of expectation and come into agreement with Truth, we find the source of strength and love and acceptance and joy.

You connect to love.


I asked her what the worst part of all of this was. I wasn’t surprised when she told me she was dealing with feelings of rejection and self-confidence. The words that kept ringing in her mind, over and over again, went like this:

Why couldn’t he love me?

Why wasn’t I enough?

These feelings of rejection, by the way, seem like they are coming from the outside (why couldn’t he love me?) but the truth is they are an inside job. Always. The most painful rejection you can ever experience is the rejection of yourself.

Over and over again we reject ourselves, lie to ourselves, pretend to be people who we are not, act like we are okay when we are NOT okay, and then we wonder why we feel so terribly alone and isolated. It’s because no one can connect to an invisible person. No one can connect to a ghost. They will reach out to touch you, but where they touch… you will not be there.

The loneliest place in the world is to have rejected oneself. (Tweet that)

The only cure for rejection is love. Just so much love. Love is available to us always and in abundance—as much of it as we can handle, as much as we can stand. As we learn to let love in, to fully accept ourselves without judgement, to embrace who we are even though it is not exactly who we want to be, love begins to manifest itself in our lives.

I love how Elizabeth Gilbert said it the other day:

The parts of yourself that you do not love are terribly vital, because they demand that you dig deep — deeper than you ever thought you would have to dig — in order to summon compassion and forgiveness for the struggling human being whom you are. And until you learn to treat the struggling human being whom you are with a modicum of empathy, tenderness, and love, you will never be able to love anyone or anything with the fullness of your heart…and that would be a great shame. Because this is what we all want, isn’t it? This is what we came here for, right? To learn how to love each other with the fullness of our hearts?

Please know this: Whenever you withhold love from yourself, you are withholding love from the world…period.

We really need you to stop doing that.

The world has enough problems, without you withholding any more love. — 

If you don’t accept yourself… if you don’t receive yourself… who will?

You redefine failure

My friend told me on the phone that she was worried she had wasted too much time with this guy—waiting for him, wondering if things were going to “work out” for them, giving him her grace and patience and all her benefits of doubt—and now she felt like that was all energy and effort and time down the drain. I understood exactly what she was talking about.

And yet…

I find it odd and frustrating that the only definition we have in our culture for the success or failure of a relationship is if it ends. This is the only rubric we’ve been given. You hear this come through even in the way we talk about relationships. We say things like, “it didn’t work out…”

But what if it DID work out—exactly as it was meant to—and we just need a new way to talk about it?

Here’s the crazy thing to think about: every relationship in your life WILL END! Every single one. Whether because of death or divorce or change of heart or change of direction, every relationship in your life will come to an end at some point or another. Heartbreak is as much a part of the human experience birth, death and falling in love.

We need a new way to decide if a relationship has succeeded.

I told her that the incredible investment she had made into her relationship was something she got to take with her. It wasn’t like she had put coins into a piggy bank she was now leaving behind. In fact, it was more like a lottery ticket. This guy, this relationship, this apparent “failure” was like a winning lottery ticket, if she would allow it to be that way.

Her heart hadn’t only been broken. It had been BROKEN OPEN.

And what she chose to do with that open heart of hers, well, that was up to her. But I told her to think of it less like a piggy bank that was yanked from her grasp and more like a piñata. She’d been given a good whack, sure, but now there was candy flying everywhere and children were laughing and children laughing is one of the most joyful sounds in the world.

I told her to think about collecting her loot—to get busy picking up the pieces, to consider herself the luckiest girl on this earth.

Her treasures were abounding—even if she couldn’t quite see them yet.

And I shared with her my new list, the one I wrote to help me define “success” in a relationship.

My list goes like this:

Are we able to share the truth of who we are?
Are we able to honor and respect each other, as individuals unto ourselves?
Are we able to help each other become our best selves?
Are we able to let go at appropriate times?
Do we lighten the load for each other, rather than make it heavier?
Do we leave each other better than we found each other?

Can you think of anything else to add?

You tell yourself the truth of who you are.

I know it seems like this is all your fault and you are the one who ruined everything and, if only you had done this or that differently, the whole thing would have been salvaged. That is not true. Over and over again, you tell yourself the truth. This is not all your fault. You could not have seen this coming. You were doing the best you could.




You are not a failure.

You are exactly where you are meant to be.

Take a minute and write down the qualities of yourself–the very TRUE qualities you bring to this world. Do this when you are not feeling overwhelmed, so you can go back and read them when you are feeling overwhelmed, when the lies are louder than normal, when you aren’t feeling okay.

Tell yourself:

I am beautiful
I am exactly where I am meant to be
My life is perfectly unfolding
I am safe and protected
I have everything I need
I am not defined by what he thinks of me
I am so deeply loved
Nothing I do (or don’t do) can change how loved I am

We do not always live from our most authentic, truest selves, but that doesn’t mean they cease to exist. That quiet place inside of us—the one that is overflowing and abundant with love, peace and happiness—is always available to us, even if we don’t access it. So when you think about the truth of who you are, don’t think about the mistakes you’ve made or the ways you’ve fallen short.

Think about the fact that you are made in a heavenly image.

At your core, you are pure light and beauty.

Call that out of yourself.

You let go of beliefs that do not serve you.

You will find—in the midsts of heartbreak, more than almost any other season—a litany of beliefs that are driving your life but which you didn’t know you had. Beliefs about yourself. Beliefs about men. Beliefs about women. Beliefs about relationships in general. Work consciously and completely on letting go of these beliefs.

This is your only job.

It is the HARDEST job there is. But it is your only job.

In fact, this job is so difficult, your mind will do anything it can to get out of doing it. It’s like a teenage kid who has been told to do his chores. So much resistance. Instead of re-routing old beliefs, you’ll find yourself spinning with thoughts about who your ex is dating now, and if she’s prettier than you, and wanting to gossip and blame and judge… it’s all distraction.

This is what drives you to drink or smoke or find someone new right away, or eat a pint of ice cream right before you go to bed. This is all your way of getting out of the work. It’s the escape from responsibility.

It feels nice for a minute. But it is keeping you stuck.

So, when you find yourself spinning and swirling, ask yourself: what is the negative belief that is taking me to this dark place? What is the rut that my brain is stuck in? Am I willing—finally, finally—to let it go?

You are the only one who can free yourself from the trap of negative thoughts.

You have all the power.

You are ready. You have this. You have everything you need, everything it takes. You are not alone. And—as one of my very favorite poets, David Whyte would say—everything, everything, everything is waiting on you.

The post How to Keep Moving Forward When You Are Heartbroken appeared first on Allison Fallon.

Can You Trust Your Intuition?

I did not grow up knowing I could trust my intuition. I doubt I’m alone in that. For as many “follow your passion” and “listen to your heart” messages as we hear in our culture, we also live in a world that strongly favors logic and reason over any kind of intuitive sensibilities.

Pretty much anything that can’t be measured and proved isn’t trusted.

Listen to the way Malcolm Gladwell explains it in his book, Blink:

We live in a world that assumes that the quality of a decision is directly related to the time and effort that went into making it…We believe that we are always better off gathering as much information as possible an depending as much time as possible in deliberation. We really only trust conscious decision making. But there are moments, particularly in times of stress, when haste does not make waste, when our snap judgments and first impressions can offer a much better means of making sense of the world…

—Malcolm Gladwell

As Gladwell remarks here, intuition can be an incredibly powerful asset to us—assuming we know how to listen to it. When you’re making a big decision—like who to marry or where to go to college, or if you should quit your job or keep it, or if you should move to a new city or leave a relationship, your intuition might have more to offer you than you think.

Meanwhile, most of us are ignoring it.

What is intuition?

If I asked you to point on your body to the place intuition comes from, where would you point? Most people point to their chests, or maybe to their bellies. This is reflected in the way we talk about intuition: “trust your gut” or “follow your heart”. But would you believe that your intuition actually comes from the same place that logic and reasoning live?

Your brain. It’s true.

There’s a reason our bellies and chests are where we experience our intuitive sensibilities—I’ll talk more about that in a minute. But before I get there, I want to emphasize this point because it’s really important to understand that, when you have an intuition about something—that a person isn’t safe, that something bad is about to happen, that someone isn’t being honest—that is your brain talking to you.

Your limbic brain, actually.

Your limbic brain is also sometimes called your creative brain, or your animal brain, but this is the part of the human brain that has kept our species alive and thriving for as long as we have been on this planet. Considering the fact that this part of our brain makes decisions very quickly, and without much supporting evidence, this brain system is also surprisingly reliable.

Researchers have found that [your limbic brain] often knows the right answer long before [your logical brain] does.  For example, in one study, researchers asked their subjects to play a card game where the goal was to win the most money.  What the subjects did not realize, however, is that the game was rigged from the start.  There were two stacks of cards to choose from; one was rigged to provide big wins followed by big losses, while the other deck was set up to provide small gains but almost no losses.  

It took about 50 cards before the subjects said they had a hunch about which deck was safer, and about 80 cards before they could actually explain the difference between the two decks.  However, what is most fascinating is that after only 10 cards the sweat glands on the subjects’ palms opened slightly every time they reached for a card in the dangerous deck.  It was also around the tenth card that the subjects started to favor the safer deck, without being consciously aware that they were doing so.  In other words, long before the analytical brain could explain what was going on, the subjects’ bodily intuition knew where there was danger, and guided them toward safety.

—Kelly Turner, PhD

If you’ve ever been in a situation where your intuition has saved you some considerable amount of pain or suffering, you know this is true. Our limbic brains speak to us powerfully when we meet someone we know is trustworthy, when we fear someone is lying to us, when we sense danger around the corner, or when we just have a “feeling” that something is “off”.

This is the power of our intuition.

The problem with intuition.

The main problem with intuition is that we are not taught how to listen to it. By that I mean we are not taught how to interpret what our intuition is saying to us when it begins talking, and so many times we get the story wrong.

I love how Gladwell says it.

We have, as human beings, a storytelling problem. We’re a bit too quick to come up with explanations for things we don’t really have an explanation for. —Malcolm Gladwell

When most people say, “you can’t trust your intuition,” what they are actually saying, I think, is that they had an intuitive sense once—a strong magnetic pull to a romantic partner, for example, or a deep sense that they were supposed to take a particular job or move to a new city—and then, when the story didn’t play out the way they expected it to, they wondered to themselves: where did I go wrong?

They assume they shouldn’t have trusted their intuition.

But what if it wasn’t their intuition that was wrong? What if it was the way they interpreted their intuition? Or, what if they simply haven’t given the story enough time to unfold quite yet so that they can see what their intuition was trying to show them?

Can I really trust my intuition?

The most frustrating part about intuition is that it talks in pictures and dreams and fuzzy “feelings” rather than in facts and figures and carefully laid out arguments like we’re used to. It is not logical or reasonable in the slightest.

For it to be logical or reasonable would be to go against its very nature.

And yet we can learn to understand our intuitions if we’re willing to practice listening to them and learning their language. How do you learn the language of intuition? The same way we would learn any language—by trying and failing and listening and practicing and, over time, making connections between words and sounds and pictures and what those things represent.

If you’ve ever spent time learning a foreign language you know how truly uncomfortable it can be—and learning the language of your intuition is no different.

When intuitions get confused.

One challenge with our limbic brains is that they are very old brains, which means they are hard-wired for survival in a world that is not congruent with the one we live in now. Where as, at one time, a rustling in the bushes very well may have meant a saber toothed tiger was about to attack us, now means the neighborhood cat is on the loose.

We don’t need a fight or flight response for the neighborhood cat.

This can make our intuitions seem unreliable.

Along those same lines lines, something else that can trick our intuitions is trauma—something none of us will make it through life without. Natural disasters, car accidents, abuse, neglect, or any number of other stressful situations can put our limbic brains into hyper-drive and confuse our intuitions.

When humans are forced or denied certain feelings during their prime stages of mental, physical, and above all emotional growth, guts can be faulty. A childhood hijacked by abusive or neglectful parents or guardians can create excessive self-doubt, irrational fear, or a clouded thought process, making it difficult to filter traumatic past experiences from actual gut intuition. Overwhelming stimuli can also make it difficult for a person to see the decision in front of them with clarity —Samantha Olsen, The Science of Intuition

When you’re suffering post-trauma, it can feel at times virtually impossible to know the difference between intuition and a trauma-response. Still, even in this case, the response of our bodies is remarkably truthful, in a way our minds cannot be. Even these trauma responses, which are by all definitions unreasonable and inconvenient—are trying to tell us something.

Sadly, most of the time we miss them.

Our bodies talk.

The good news about learning to listen to our intuition is that it does talk to us. And one of the ways it does that is through our bodies. Our bodies are so honest. Our brains can find ways around things and block out memories and reason all of our problems away.

Our bodies don’t do that.

My body spoke to me loudly for many years before I began to listen.

Panic attacks.
Crippling depression.
Food allergies.

In my late teens and twenties I would get violently ill and be rushed to the emergency room, thinking I was dying. There would be little or no explanation for what was going on with me.

The doctors were baffled.

Meanwhile, my body was begging me to pay attention. Our bodies often know things our minds can’t and most of us don’t trust it. We don’t trust our intuitions because they seem completely illogical.

But what if the fact that it is perfectly illogical is exactly the point?

The problem with not listening.

The true danger in not listening to our intuition is we live a life cut off from ourselves, from our hearts and spirits and our deeper sense of purpose and meaning in the world. One of my favorite authors and teachers, Parker Palmer, does a good job of explaining what happens as we search for our vocation or calling without listening to what he calls our inner-teacher.

That concept of [finding your] vocation is rooted in a deep distrust of selfhood, in the belief that the sinful self will always be “selfish” unless corrected by external forces of virtue. It is a notion that made me feel inadequate to the task of living my own life, creating guilt about the distance between who I was and who I was supposed to be, leaving me exhausted as I labored to close the gap.” —Parker Palmer, Yes Magazine

Did you catch that? Inadequate to the task of my own life.

I don’t know about you, but I can identify with that sentiment. Have you ever felt like you are inadequate to the task of your own life? This, I believe, is what happens when we don’t learn to speak the language of our intuitions. We cut ourselves off from one of the most powerful forces we have to navigate the terrain of our own lives.

This is why learning to trust our intuitions matters so much.

Without our intuitions, we can live lives that are carefully ordered and predictable but disconnected from our deeper purpose and calling, from meaning and ultimately from joy.

How to listen?

The hard truth about learning to trust your intuition is that your intuition is not an exact science. They do not always tell us the the exact right details about a situation. In fact, often they don’t. The only way to really learn what your intuition is trying to tell you is to listen, to try, to test it, to fail at it, and to try again.

I love the way Kathryn Hall puts it in this beautiful article about using intuition to make a big decision.

Notice how she pairs listening to intuition with logic and reason.

Listen to your head. Be curious. Consider all options other than yes or no, do or don’t do. List out everything you might do that is in your control or ability to influence others to help you. Think about the facts. Consider the pros and cons. What points come to the forefront? What are all of your options around this choice you have to make?

Take a breath and clear your mind so you can listen from your heart. Think of someone you care about or something you love to do. Say the word love or gratitude or choose another word that opens your heart. Now consider the decision you need to make keeping your awareness around your heart. What points come to the forefront? How do these points differ from what emerged when you considered the decision using only your head? Notice how the points relate more to your desires than to the facts and details. Which option will you regret more if you don’t decide on it?

—Kathryn Hall

It is not that we discount the value of logic and reasoning. It’s simply to suggest we may be missing the richest, fullest, most glorious existence life has to offer us if we don’t pay attention to both our hearts and our heads.

Your intuition is speaking. Are you listening?

Extra Resources:

How to Hear Your Intuition When You Don’t Know What to Do
The Science of Intuition
Blink by Malcolm Gladwell
A Hidden Wholeness by Parker Palmer

The post Can You Trust Your Intuition? appeared first on Allison Fallon.

Violence, Peace and What to Do for a World That’s Grieving.

I don’t know much. I know a little bit about grief—as we all do, any of us who have faced loss. I know the smallest amount about injustice, having experienced a profound violation of my dignity when I was very young. I know what it’s like to feel as if someone has a grip on your life who is not you; like another person gets more of a say in your life than you do.

I’ve lived and breathed and moved as a female in a world where women are too often abused, degraded and treated as second-class citizens.

I know a tiny bit about hate—both because of the ways I have found it to spring up in my own heart at times, and also because I have been the target of it on a few very small occasions. But even then, when I think about the implications of systemic hate and senseless violence…

The only thing I really know is that I don’t know much.

I don’t know what it’s like to be judged or rejected or disrespected based on the color of my skin, something I did not select for myself, something I could not change even if I wanted to. I spent a summer living in South America, not speaking the language, trying to navigate my way around the public transit system, worrying at times for my safety because, let’s be honest, I stood out like a sore thumb.

But even that experience—which feels like it may be the only hand-hold I have for understanding here—was itself was a product of my privilege. Having your camera stolen is not the same as having your life stolen.

And besides, at the end of the summer, I got to come home.

All of this makes me feel so incredibly ill-prepared to say anything on this subject. I’ve thought of keeping my mouth shut. Actually, scratch that. I’ve kept my mouth shut, for fear of coming across as ignorant or uninformed and because I feel more like grieving than taking a political stand and because, while I am aware of my privilege, I’m not entirely certain I know what to do with it.

And yet, here I am, heavy with the weight of the past weeks.

Violence. Shootings. Hatred. Attacks. I have no real answers. But I cannot stay quiet.

How could I write about anything else? 

Listening, talking and learning.

A few months ago I spoke at a writing retreat specifically for people of color. Trust me, the irony is not at all lost on me that I was asked to come present at this event at all. It’s safe to assume they brought me in for my writing expertise, because it certainly wasn’t for diversity. But after the event, I was talking to one of the female writers who had come to the event.

She was a black woman who grew up in the inner city of Chicago.

I mostly listened. I felt embarrassed, honestly, that I didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation. I always have something to contribute to a conversation. As I sat there wishing I had more to say, it occurred to me that even my lack of understanding was a reflection of my privilege. I don’t know about these things because I don’t have to know.

That said, I asked a hundred questions—including where I could start if I wanted to learn more.

She was gracious. She said one thing I could do was to start conversations with people, just like I was doing with her. She suggested I make friends with people who looked different from me, people in my neighborhood, people I didn’t understand. She warned me not be surprised if not all of them jumped at the chance to be friends with me. There’s an inherent distrust there, she insisted, but just to keep reaching out, keep asking.

Okay, I thought. I can do that.

Before we parted ways, I admitted to her how embarrassed I felt that I hadn’t contributed more to the conversation. Again, her response was gracious. She said, “Honestly, sometimes it’s nice for me to be the one doing the talking.” She paused for a minute, “we learn more from listening than from talking.”

We learn more from listening than from talking. Yes, that’s so true, isn’t it? Truth be told, I do a lot of talking in my life. Mostly I talk, in fact. Even when I don’t have much to say, I have something to say.

Perhaps it is good for us, sometimes, to have nothing to say. (Tweet that)

Maybe that means it’s time to start listening.

Some places to listen.

In the spirit of listening, here are some resources that have been helpful to me as I’ve been navigating the past few weeks. Please, if you have other resources to share—anything you find helpful or informative—I’d love to have you do so in the comments.

Here are just a few I recommend.

The Liturgist Podcast
This song, called Same Side by my friends Jill and Kate
Three Things we Need to Stop Doing in the Race Conversation by Jefferson Bethke
The Secret to Nonviolent Resistance by Jamila Raquib

Something More is Required of Us Now by Michelle Alexander

I’m sure there are more great resources out there. Again, if you have something constructive and helpful, please share in the comments.

We have more in common than we think.

If there is one thing I have learned in my 33 years on this planet is that we have more in common than we think we do, and that what we are all ultimately craving is human connection. It’s really just that simple. It’s what sends us to our phones, like little addicts, refreshing and updating and clicking and waiting and typing.

We’re just so desperate to not be alone.


Most of us are numbing and protecting and defending against this feeling.

It’s perhaps one of the more uncomfortable feelings of the human experience—loneliness, isolation, the sense that we are “different” than the people around us. It’s part of why we rally together in tribes and groups and church denominations and sports teams and differentiate ourselves with logos and colors and language. It’s why we tell ourselves stories about how we are “different” from “them”.

It is a protection. A defense. But at the end of the day, it is holding us back from the one thing we truly crave, which is to belong to one another.

We belong to each other.

We’re made from the same stuff. We eat, drink, get cold, hungry, thirsty, suffer, cry, laugh, hug and are desperate to be seen, to be heard, to matter, to be truly loved for who we are, to belong, to connect. When we strip away all the excess, this is what is left.

This is who we are.

We refuse to be enemies.

Last March I visited Israel-Palestine with a group of women I respect so deeply, and while I was there, I met a woman named Robi. Robi is an Israeli Jew who’s son was killed a few years ago by a Palestinian Sniper. Her grief has been as profound as you would expect a mother’s grief to be who has buried her own son. But perhaps the most profound part of Robi’s story, for me, is her response to that grief.

Rather than fighting back in anger or retaliation, Robi has taken her pain and turned it into a point of connection.

In fact, she’s begun to meet regularly with a group of people—from both sides of the conflict—who have also lost children. Starting with her friend Basham, who’s young daughter was killed by an Israeli soldier, Robi began to connect with other parents and family members through their grief. What these two friends found is that even though they were on opposite sides of the conflict, so to speak, they were not enemies.

They could bond together over their shared grief.




I suppose the question I have for all of us in light of recent events is this: who would we bond with if we were able to bond over our shared grief?

What if, through our shared grief, we were able to connect?

Grief is collective.

The truth about grief is it is collective—whether we admit it is or not. To say that one person can grieve or fight or die and not have it impact the rest of humanity is like saying one wave from the ocean could sweep up onto the shore without the entire rest of it moving. When one of us moves, the rest of us move.

What one of us feels, we all feel.

We have to stop acting like we are not connected, like what happens to one of us does not affect the sum total of us. We have to stop pretending like we are our own little islands.

Grief is collective.

This is why we are all feeling the collective weight of grief moving through the world right now. Some are more awake to it than others. Some are more aware. Some of us are closer and some of us are further away. Many of us are coping, numbing, because the pain is too great and we have not yet learned how to deal with a pain that feels to big for us to feel. But no matter what, the grief is there. For all of us.

There is no denying it.

And perhaps one of the most helpful things we can do to honor our collective grief is just to allow it to be what it is. To stop trying to talk people out of it or suggest they should do it differently or try to offer up trite solutions, but just to allow it to be what it is and to be kind to ourselves and others and to offer extra compassion and empathy and grace.

I know it doesn’t seem like much, but what if it is more than we think?

Grief needs a witness

One of the most healing things that friends and family did when I was walking through my own season of grief was just to be there. They showed up. They dropped everything and drove to my house when I was feeling afraid. They called or texted daily to check in. They came to court appointments with me and sat on the couch while I cried or just waited with me until I fell asleep.

Grief is desperate for a witness. It needs space to breathe and to be and to exist. Eventually, it does dissipate.

But it doesn’t do so because we force it out.

Are you willing to be a witness to the grief of someone else? Can you hold the space for that? Or, are you so focused on finding solutions, fixing things, coming up with a ten-step program, politicizing everything, voicing your opinions, getting your way, keeping the power you have, protecting yourself, that you have forgotten to look into the faces of people who are hurting?

Are you doing more talking than listening?

Love Heals

When we can stop trying to fix people, or change them, or control them, we can finally begin to love them. And love changes everything. I stumbled across this quote by Maya Angelou the other day and it seemed so fitting:

In the flush of love’s light we dare be brave. And suddenly we see that love costs all we are and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free.

Love really does set us free. The problem is most of us don’t know who to do it.

Grief will teach us to love, if we let it.

Grieve changes everything.

I wrote a poem (below) that talks about how grief changes everything. We cannot touch toes with grief and come out the same on the other side.

It doesn’t work that way. Not if we’re really feeling it.

The poem is called This Is Grief and it goes like this:

Grief is a river

We wade through it,

up to our neck if we must,

or work to shimmy over it

on the log that has fallen from 

end to end. 

We look for ways to hop

from rock to rock—

like the day we got lost 

in the woods, you and me,  

and you said we had three choices: 

to climb, 

to swim like hell

or to wait for rescue.

This is grief. 

Grief is an ocean,

unpredictable and swirling, 

the waves they come and go

as they please, without 

rhyme or reason—

with only the moon,

who draws them out

and back in and back out

again—with or 

without their permission.

They say “it comes in waves”

and that’s true 

except they forget to say 

that sometimes the tide is high

over our heads and the 

current is strong and 

the waves have this way 

of tucking us into their spiral.

They forget to say that the sand 

almost always erodes

under our toes.

The ground is shaky and dissolving. 

This is grief.

Grief is a monarch

wrapped in a cocoon.

You think she transforms, but really

she liquifies, disintegrates. 

She ceases to be

and then, suddenly, one day

returns as something new.

This is grief.

Grief is a tributary, 

rushing itself toward the sea, 

where eventually the two become 

one 

powerful force—wild

and open 

and free. 

Here, they no longer  

wait for the pull of the moon 

to cease,

but instead, the two of them 

allow what is to 

just be.

This is grief,

drawing souls 

in swimsuits and sandals 

with sweatshirts and sandy toes—

lover’s hands tucked

firmly into one another—

one by one

as the blazing sun 

sinks into the sea.

This is great news, by the way—that grief changes us.

This is what our country needs more than anything right now, what our world needs— to change irrevocably, to never be the same.

A friends said to me the other day, “you can get into a head-on collision with a semi-truck and survive. You’ll just never be the same again.” And maybe this is a is what all of this is—this terror and devastation and violence. Maybe, as tragic as it is, it is the wake-up call we have all needed. We cannot go on like this. We cannot keep ignoring the suffering of humanity.

If we want peace, we must begin to speak up.

We cannot stay the same.

We cannot stay silent.

The post Violence, Peace and What to Do for a World That’s Grieving. appeared first on Allison Fallon.

Should I Marry Him?

We were sitting at a coffee shop, holding mugs in our cold hands when she asked me the question I get asked more often than you might expect. The question goes like this: “How do I know if this guy is the guy?”

“Should I marry him?”

I listened, mostly, and asked her questions about what she wanted in a guy and if he fit that description. We laughed at the strange things we put on our lists, and talked about loneliness and waiting. Normally when a single woman would ask me this question, I would list off several qualities I considered “non-negotiable” and explain how I had “just known” my husband was the one. This time, however, when I opened my mouth, something different came out.

How did I know he was the one? I didn’t.

None of us do.

A few weeks after this conversation, my marriage fell apart.

Or, more accurately, the few threads I’d been desperately trying to hold together to for the past few years finally came unraveled. The irony is not lost on me that this conversation happened in the way it did such a short time before my marriage ultimately ended. She and I talked in mid-September. By November my husband and I were separated. By April we were divorced.

And to be honest, after the end of my marriage, I found myself feeling like I had even more I wanted to say to her back on that day in September. There are no perfect words to answer that question, but these are words from my heart and I thought maybe they might help. So Grace—this one is for you.

I don’t have all the answers, but here’s what I’m learning.

You may be asking the wrong questions.

It’s not hard for me to remember what it’s like to be on the dating scene—especially now, since instead of starting a family this year like I had planned, I am starting over. I know it’s stressful at times and you’re trying to “figure people out” and no one is saying the things they want to say and you’re wondering what he’d look like in a tux and if he’d fit in with your family.

I get it. I’ve been there.

But listen. If I could give you one piece of advice, it would be this: spend less time trying to figure out how to dress, how to act, how not to act, when to text, when not to text, who should pay, etc. and more time asking one question:

How do I feel about myself when I am in this person’s presence?

Spend less time trying to figure out his resume and more time trying to get to his heart. (tweet that)

Spend less time trying to beef up your own dating resume (all the things you think make you appealing to a person who might want to marry you) and more time wondering if you’re the kind of person who is open to a real relationship.

Can you tell him what you think—even if it will hurt his feelings?
Are you able to let your guard down in front of him?
Are you able to hear what he has to say—even when it’s difficult?
Do you tell him how he makes you feel and is he able to receive this?
Do you enjoy his company?
Would you rather be with him than by yourself?

We spend so much time worrying about the details of a person. How much schooling have they had? What is their job? What kind of car does he drive? Do I like her style? It’s not that these are bad questions. It’s just that we can get lost in the details when details can be easily manipulated.

Accolades can be empty.

A person can accomplish a lot—so what? Do they have good character? Are they a person of integrity? I wish I would have spent less time trying to put together the resumes of the men I dated and more time asking myself:

How do I feel about myself when I’m in his presence?

Time is on your side.

My ex-husband and I got married quickly. Very quickly. And if I had it to do all over again—if I could go back—I would have just given us more time. We needed more time. Think about a flower, or a plant. You cannot yell at it or rush it or do anything really to make it grow faster. It just needs time and space and water and good soil and lots of attention and care to grow.

You relationship will grow in its time.

You cannot rush these things.

I’m not saying endless amounts of time will automatically make things clear that are complicated. It won’t. What I am saying is that, if you don’t feel ready to decide yet whether this guy is “the guy,” then you aren’t ready to decide. Cut yourself some slack. Give yourself the time you need to bring clarity to your situation and clarity to your heart.

It will be a different amount of time for everyone. No need to beat yourself up for the amount of time you need.

And look, I know you’re getting older every day and more and more of your friends are getting engaged on Facebook and it feels like you are the last one and you’re going to get left behind. I know there is a chance that if you wait “too long” you will miss your chance. The person you’re dating might just walk away. But listen.

What is for you will not pass you by.

There is no such thing as missing your own boat. (tweet that)

You cannot mess this up.

And most of all, time is always, always on your side.

Side note: if you are in a relationship with someone who pressures you to make a decision before you are ready, I would consider this a red flag. Pressure to make a decision fast usually means the person pressuring you worries you won’t make a decision in his or her best interest if you’re given too much time. Ultimately you want to be married to someone who says, each time you have to make a difficult choice in your marriage, “Take your time. What’s good for you is also good for me.”

Dating is not about finding a husband or wife.

I spent most of my dating life thinking this whole thing was about finding a husband. It wasn’t until after I was married I realized I had mostly missed the point. Dating is incredible practice toward a good marriage. But finding the “right person” is not the point. Who you are becoming is the point.

Dating is not a weird holding cell or mandatory waiting period before the reward of your real life. It is your real life.

The people you date are your teachers (and you are theirs).

So in other words, the happy relationships, the hard ones, the confusing ones, the pushy guy, the wishy-washy guy, the controlling woman, the afraid-of-commitment woman, the time you find yourself losing your temper for no good reason, the disagreements, the butterflies… all of this is your teacher.

So maybe a more helpful question than, “should I marry him?” is “what is this person here to help me learn?”

Learn to speak your truth.

Along these lines, one major thing I wish I would have practiced more while I was dating was honesty. Difficult, brutal, terrifying honesty. We spend most of our time dating trying to veil the truth, to dance around it, trying not to say anything that will make us too vulnerable, or hurt anyone’s feelings, or make us seem “too forward” or trying to follow some arbitrary set of rules.

My advice would be: learn to get over that. Learn to speak your truth, to show up for yourself, to hold space for yourself and for someone else. Learn to say, “no thank you” or “I don’t see a future with us” or “I really like you” or “I’m not ready” or “What I need is… (fill in the blank)”

What’s better than finding a spouse is learning to be at home with yourself.

A failed marriage is not a failed life

A year ago, I was the girl who judged people for getting divorces. Ugh, it feels so awful to write that, but sadly it’s the truth. I didn’t know I was doing it. A few of my friends had been through divorces and it wasn’t like I sat around thinking they were terrible people—I didn’t. But I did find myself thinking, on occasion, about how that would never happen to me (judgement is sneaky like that).

Divorce was not an option for me. I was strong, I told myself. No matter what happened, I would fight for my marriage. And I did fight. Even when things got worse than I could have ever imagined they could be, I kept fighting, kept telling myself that if I could only fight harder, I could save us. But the end of a relationship, I have learned, isn’t always the result of a lack of fighting.

Sometimes the strongest thing we can do is to let go.

Remember you can do all the right things and still end up getting divorced. Well,“all” the right things is probably a stretch. Let me say this: you can do so many good, wonderful, beautiful, brave, remarkable things and still not get the outcome you hoped for—not the one you went in seeking. We do not control outcomes. We do, on the other hand, control attitudes and responses decisions about how to move forward

Notice how quick you are to judge your efforts by your outcomes in life—and how truly damaging this can be to your soul.

The most damaging words I spoke to myself during the divorce process, and that were spoken to me, went like this: “So you couldn’t make it work?” And here’s the response I have learned to give myself each time those awful judgements come up: “no, I couldn’t make it work. That was never my job. My job was to show up, every day, to do the very best I could, to leave it all on the field, and to trust that the outcome of my marriage does not reflect the shape of my soul.”

A “failed” marriage is not a failed life (and by the way, can we redefine failure?)

I hope this is an encouragement to you in the dating process, more than a caution. You cannot and will not get it all right. Putting that unrealistic expectation on yourself not only sets you up for disappointment, and doesn’t leave room for the magical and mystical and miracle in your life. Did I want to get divorced? No. This is not the story I asked for. It is not what I dreamed about. But it is also not my end.

Give yourself permission to make mistakes. To not know everything. You are a beautiful, amazing, remarkable work in progress.

Be honest about red flags.

Most of us are trying to look for a person with no red flags, when the truth is we all have red flags. Literally every single one of us. If you think you are in a relationship where there are no red flags, there is your red flag. Someone “without” red flags is just good at hiding them.

Here are some that would catch my attention.

You are giving up what’s important to you

Do you find yourself giving constantly giving up what’s most important to you? Giving up hobbies? Friends? Dreams? Are you canceling your own plans for the sake of his? If this is the case, I would ask yourself: why?

I would also ask: is this my choice?

Is it a choice I really want to make?

Why can’t I bring my whole self into this relationship?

His friends don’t like you. Or you don’t like them. Or he doesn’t have many friends.



Have you asked the people who are closest to him what they think about him? What do they love about him? What have their biggest fights been with him? What would they consider his greatest weakness and greatest strength?

Ask his best friends.

Ask his parents.

Ask his siblings.

If you’re lucky, you might even get to talk to an ex-girlfriend.

It’s a myth, by the way, that an ex-girlfriend would only have negative things to say about him. What would happen if you asked her, “why didn’t things work out for you two?” It’s all just information. You can do with that information whatever you want. None of it has to be conclusive. It can all be helpful.

He won’t talk with you about the things that matter to you.



Are there certain conversations that are “off limits”?

Does he use anger or violence—or even threats of violence—to shut you down? Do you feel like your thoughts, opinions, emotions are important to him? Does he really hear you? If you are afraid of a person, or if you can’t communicate clearly and openly, you cannot experience an intimate connection with them.

You don’t feel like yourself when you’re with him

If you don’t seem “like yourself” when you’re around him—or, if your friends or close family members are communicating to you that they don’t recognize who you are becoming—this might be a good time to take a pause.

It’s possible that the person you’re becoming is who you want to become.

But if that’s the case, he won’t feel threatened by having that conversation with you.

You are excusing concerning behavior



If he flies off the handle or threatens you, or if you have a conflict that gets out of hand, or if you’re wondering why he’s so secretive and private… do you find yourself excusing the behavior and the problems and the conflicts?

Do you tell yourself, “well, it’s because he’s stressed…”

Rather than excusing concerning behavior, ask some questions. A therapist once told me that she was much less concerned about what a person does than she is about what that person thinks about what he or she does.

What does your partner think about the behavior you see that is concerning to you?

If you are willing to ask the question, you might very well get the answer you need.

The One you are looking for might be closer than you think.

I learned quickly after my husband moved out of the house that my problems did not disappear because he was gone. While we were married, I complained that he was critical of me, but after we split up, I would walk around the house and listen to the voice inside my head say things about myself that were at least as hurtful as the words that had come out of his mouth at one time or another, if not worse.

You’re so stupid, how could you possibly think that?

You’re going to wear that?

Who would ever want to date you?

I would go almost a whole day without eating and then suddenly realize starving myself was ignoring myself the way I had always accused him of ignoring me. So I made the conscious decision to become the very best partner to myself that I could possible be. I know that sounds weird. But this is really what I did.

I would think to myself: if I were dating someone, or married to him, how would I want him to treat me right now?

Then, I would treat myself like that.

I started with small things. Three meals a day. Just feed yourself, I would say. I would set a timer, and I wouldn’t let myself skip a meal. If I thought, “I’m not really that hungry” I would respond to myself, “yes, but you need to keep your strength up—you should at least try to eat something small.”

That’s what I would have wanted a partner to say to me, so I started saying it to myself.

When I couldn’t fall asleep at night, and I would wish there were someone there to comfort me, I would ask myself what I wished that person would say to me, and I would say those things to myself.

“Worrying is not going to fix this.”

“You’re doing a good job.”

“Sleep now and we’ll talk about these problems tomorrow”

My point is that, while it will be nice when someday, someone comes along who you can share your life with, for today (and even after that person comes) YOU are the one. You are the one who has been ordained to take care of yourself, to speak kindly to yourself, to provide for yourself, to feed yourself, to encourage yourself, to be “the one” for you.




This is the hardest task you will ever undertake. Harder than finding a spouse, believe it or not. But you can do it. You are brave and strong and beautiful and so worth loving.

You can ask for help.

You are not alone.

You’ve got this.

I hope you don’t have to go through a divorce. Truly. But I also want you to know that even if you do go through a divorce—or another kind of heartbreak all together—you are going to be okay. You are powerful and resilient and incredible and not a minute is wasted. Not your dating life, not your married life, not your post-married life.

Right now, a beautiful, imperfect, magnanimous, totally resilient version of YOU is busy unfolding.

The post Should I Marry Him? appeared first on Allison Fallon.

A Letter to My Younger Self

Dear sweet girl—

Today you turn 33 but I’m remembering back to you at 13 and 23 and wishing I could whisper back through the decades and tell you some things you’ve learned.

Read and enjoy. Don’t worry too much.

Life gets better every day.

Hope these small reminders help you to really live it.

Learn to play to an empty room

Someday you’ll have these amazing, talented friends who play music for a living. These people will play to stadiums full of people. They’ll be followed by fans with cameras, begging for autographs. But here’s the thing that will really impress you: when they play to empty rooms. Because what you will see as you watch them create and thrive and perform is that these people are the same people, regardless of who is watching. And you’ll see how it’s the LOVE for what they do that makes them come alive—not how many people are or aren’t watching.

Do what you love. Don’t worry about the applause. The applause won’t do for you what you think it will. (Tweet that)

Have some useless hobbies

Give yourself the space and time and permission to do a few things that aren’t going to directly improve your life’s bottom line. Play the guitar. Sing by yourself on the floor of your living room. Don’t feel guilty about it. Don’t feel like you always need to be efficient. Don’t worry if it doesn’t always seem like you’re “making progress”.

Just enjoy the beautiful way your life is unfolding.

Swing in a hammock for hours, daydreaming about a boy you will never marry. Go ahead. I dare you.

Pretend to read books at coffee shops, while you’re secretly people watching. Go for walks to nowhere. Drive just to drive. Wander in circles a little. Take naps in the sunshine. Float in the ocean until your skin is all prune-y and you get a sunburn on your forehead. You don’t always have to do the productive thing. You don’t always have to do the efficient thing. You do not always have to be thinking about your progress (pssst… you’re making progress even when you don’t realize it). You are not a human doing. You are a human being.

It’s okay to JUST BE. 

You don’t have to marry the first guy who asks you

This might seem like an insane piece of advice, especially considering marriage proposals aren’t exactly coming at you in droves. But what I mean is that you don’t necessarily need to think that, just because someone asks you to marry them, you should say yes.

Take your time. Weigh your options. Pay less attention to his accomplishments, his bank account, and his resume and much more attention to how you feel about yourself in his presence. Pay less attention to getting him to love you and more attention to getting you to love yourself. Getting married is not the point. Getting him to want to marry you is even less of the point.

You have a whole life ahead of you and you do not need to rush into anything. You are beautiful and talented and the only one of you. Wait for a guy who knows what a gift he’s getting to get to have you in his life. 

Let yourself be stupid happy.

Too many people feel guilty for being happy so they go to all kinds of extravagant lengths to sabotage their own happiness—usually without even realizing it. Remember this always: it’s okay to be happy! Ridiculously, stupidly, happy.

Happiness is not a circumstance, it’s a mindset.

You won’t always be perfectly happy. You’ll have to learn to curate happiness, to fight for it in some seasons, to sink to the pits of despair so you can really understand what a rare and shimmering gift happiness truly is. You’ll have to learn that no matter how sad you get, you can always fight your way back to happiness. It is always at your fingertips.

Eventually you will realize that happiness is inside of you, not outside. And that even when your life sort of seems like it might kind of be a wreck, it is okay for you to be ridiculously, stupidly, freakishly happy.

Listen to yourself.

There will be a whole slew of people who want to weigh in on your life. Some of them will have your best interest in mind. Others won’t. It will be hard to tell the difference between the two. But either way, when it comes to taking advice, not all advice is created equal, and you need to know this.

Even those with the best of intentions might be blind to how they are guiding you to the place that is best for them—not necessarily for you.

The one source of wisdom you can always trust is your inner wisdom—that still, small voice. Learn to get quiet, to tune in, to pay attention, and not to let your own voice be drowned out by the noise of the world around you. Your intuition, you will find, is strangely and inexplicably accurate. Not always precise (our intuitions rarely give us details), but surprisingly good at pointing to something important and beautiful and true.

The more you listen to that still small voice, the louder and clearer and more reliable it gets.

Learn to say no.

No I would not like to go out with you. No you may not have my phone number. No I do not want to have sex with you. No I will not text you a picture of myself. No no no. No about lots of other things, too, but those no’s will be especially important.

You do not belong to anyone except yourself.

You do not have to do anything you don’t want to do.

I’m not sure why this feels like such a profound lesson when it seems like it should be so basic, but it isn’t. You are your own person. Your life is your own. Do not let anyone else think they get to choose for you.

Learn to stand up for yourself—as soon as you can

It will be tempting to sit around, waiting for somebody or something to make you feel what you’d like to feel—like you matter, like you’ve made it, like you’re safe, like you can be you. You might, at certain points, find yourself waiting for a man to pay your bills or waiting for someone to open the door to your dream opportunity.

But the truth is this waiting is useless.

Not that those men or opportunities or people will never come, but that there is no feeling the world which compares to doing it yourself.

I do not mean you shouldn’t ask for help—which may be one of the bravest things you do. I simply mean there is no feeling like the feeling of taking ownership over your life. Of supporting yourself. Taking care of yourself. Standing on your own two feet. I hope and expect that you will become the kind of woman who doesn’t wait to be rescued, but who knows you have the courage and the talent and the gumption to rescue yourself. 

Say what you want.

Say it exactly and specifically. Don’t hem and haw. Don’t hedge your bets. Don’t tiptoe. Just say, “I would like you to leave now” or “I think you should hire me” or “I want more time to myself”. Say it to your parents, or to your friends, or in a prayer. It doesn’t even have to be a request. It can just be a statement. The things we speak out loud tend to find a way into our minds and lives and hearts.

Practice forgiveness.

You will be hurt. Anyone who lives life with an open heart will be hurt. So learn to forgive. Forgive your brother and sisters. Forgive your parents for not being perfect. Forgive the one who tried to love you but couldn’t.

And when I say “practice forgiveness” I mean it literally. It takes serious practice. Start with the small things so you are not so caught off guard when the bigger ones come.

Remember forgiving is not excusing.

Most people, most of the time, are doing the best they can.

Get yourself a good, strong right hook.

Take a self-defense class. Ask someone to teach you. Just in case. You know. You more than likely won’t have to use it. But it will make you feel a little safer when you have to come home alone.

Don’t take yourself too seriously.

Learn to laugh at yourself more than just about everyone else. Learn to fail because you know that the world does not depend on you succeeding.

As you fail with gusto, you will find your way to great success.

Take up some space in the world.

Be a little louder than necessary. Eat too much every now and then. Don’t shrink down or back off to make other people happy. Laugh your ass off—and say ass even though people will say it’s not “becoming” of a woman. Every now and then, remind yourself that you have choices and that you can do what you want and that no one else gets to make those choices for you.

Don’t worry too much about stepping on toes. Most toes are resilient. And the ones that aren’t could use a little stepping on now and then. It’s good for them. Builds strength. And whatever you do, never forget that you deserve to take up space in this world.

You are bold. You are brave. You are BIG and that’s okay.

Can’t wait to watch you shine.

The post A Letter to My Younger Self appeared first on Allison Fallon.

Why Women Apologize More Than Men (and What to Do About It)

I was at Home Depot the other day when I caught myself on an apology-spree: “I’m sorry but can I ask you where you keep those drain-snaking things? I’m so sorry I can’t remember what it’s called.” “I’m so sorry for making you walk all the way across the store!”

It wasn’t even “I’m sorry” but “I’m so sorry.”

Fascinating.

I apologized when I realized my cart was in the way of another customer, then again when I made a different customer move his cart out of the aisle because it was in my way, and then again as I leaned in to pull something off the shelf I needed, since I might be invading another customer’s personal space. 

I began counting the number of times I apologized during that shopping trip, and from the time I realize what was happening, to the time I left the store, the number was eight. Eight apologies within about 30 minutes.

And before I go on pretending like my obnoxious over-apologizing had to do with me being at the Home Depot, I began to pay attention that week to how often I apologized in my everyday life—regardless of where I am. 

I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back to you
I’m sorry for the late text
I’m so sorry—am I in your way?
I’m sorry, were you waiting to use this?
I’m sorry, can you tell me what that means?
I’m sorry I can’t quite hear you
I’m sorry for making you rush (when the person I was meeting was late)
I’m sorry to have to ask this…
I’m sorry I didn’t catch that

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Even I got sick of hearing myself saying it. 

Can you relate? Do you find yourself apologizing for things that don’t actually warrant an apology?

Do you wish you could stop?

Excuse me, I’m coming through!

The whole thing took me back to my very first job, where I worked as a hostess at Applebees. Big time, right? I can remember desperately wanting each of the servers I worked with to like me. And the way to get servers to like you, as a hostess, is make sure their section is always full with customers.

One day, while bussing and cleaning a table for one of the servers I worked with, we got caught in a traffic jam. She was coming up the ramp into her section, while I was walking down. I’m sorry I said to her as I moved out of her way so she could come through. She stopped dead in her tracks, looked me right in the eyes and said:

“No, not I’m sorry. You say excuse me, I’m coming through!”

I laughed nervously.

But honestly, at seventeen years old, the thought of saying, “excuse me, I’m coming through!” terrified me. Especially the thought of saying that to someone older than me, whom I was trying to impress. There are a thousand reasons for that, a few of which I’ll discuss later in this article. But these days, the more I think about it, the more this response seems completely appropriate and even necessary to me.

It’s not so much about saying the words, but about the attitude behind them.

What would an, excuse me, I’m coming through attitude look like in your life?

Why we apologize so much

According to a research study published by Psychological Science, there is a reason women spend significantly more time apologizing than men. It’s the same reason I found myself apologizing when I left my cart in the middle of the aisle at Home Depot, and then again when I made a male customer move his cart for me.

Research shows women apologize more than men because our threshold for what we think is offensive is generally lower.

Researchers analyzed the number of self-reported offenses and apologies made by 66 subjects over a 12-day period. And yes, they confirmed women consistently apologized more times than men did. But they also found that women report more offenses than men. So the issue is not female over-apology. Instead, there may be a gender difference in what is considered offensive in the first place.

—Scientific American

In other words, while a woman might typically find it offensive to be “in the way” or to return an email “late,” a man more likely would not.

And although I appreciate what the research tells us, to be honest, I’m more interested in what the research doesn’t tell us. For example: why do women, as a general rule, have a lower threshold for what they think warrants an apology than men do?

Where does that come from?

Who taught this to us?

Should we be motivated to change it?

A few different answers.

You’ll find differing perspectives on this subject—which shouldn’t be surprising given the fact that anytime we talk about “men” and “women” we are making generalizations that do not always feel true or helpful to everyone. Still, when I first started reading on this subject, I have to admit I was a little shocked to find some women who don’t see women’s tendency to over-apologize as problematic.

Or, at the very least, they’re not interested in making immediate changes.

This article in Cosmopolitan, for example, pointed out how frustrating it can be for a woman who was raised in a culture which demanded she be polite and accommodating to then have that same culture hold her responsible for changing the way she speaks.

Telling women to treat certain words like they’re typos isn’t a way of empowering women — it’s a way of telling them to fix a problem that actually belongs to listeners who view women as weaker and less confident. “Asking women to modify their speech is just another way we are asked to internalize and compensate for sexist bias in the world,” Friedman wrote. “We can’t win by eliminating just from our emails and like from our conversations.”

—Hannah Smothers, Cosmopolitan

This is a bit of a catch-22 isn’t it?

I get it. And yet, I have to say that, for me, this problem of over-apologizing isn’t nearly as much about “policing” the words that come out of my mouth as it is about questioning the attitude and approach I too often take for my life—the natural reflex I and other women have to apologize for our very existence. I am not 100% responsible for creating that attitude, but I am 100% responsible for shifting it or changing it.

If I don’t take responsibility for how I feel about myself as I move through the world, who will?

Does Language Matter?

One of the articles that came under a particular amount of heat was this one, by Ellen Leanse. In it, she talks not only about apologizing and over-apologizing, but about other language women use that ends up weakening our messages—words like “like” and in this case, “just”.

After noticing how often the women on her team at work were using the word “just,” they worked together to eradicate it.

Mostly because, it seems, she saw how the language these women were using wasn’t just about the words coming out of their mouth, but about issues like confidence, assertiveness, clarity and their impact and effectiveness in the workplace.

It was subtle, but small changes can spark big differences. I believe it helped strengthen our conviction, better reflecting the decisiveness, preparedness, and impact that reflected our brand.

Is it possible for the language we use to strengthen our conviction?

I think we can all agree how miserable it would be to have our language policed constantly, or to repeatedly second-guess every word that came out of our mouths. This would be a blow to a person’s confidence, rather than bolster for it. But what if we looked at the language we use not as something that needed to be policed, but something which could offer a great insight into our inner world?

Instead of policing ourselves, what if we just said: how interesting?

What we say reflects how we feel about ourselves—and even who we are.

Does it bother you?

Take a minute to watch —which highlights the exact dilemma I faced in Home Depot that day.

After watching the sketch, ask yourself: does this bother me?

I have to admit, that after watching this for myself, it’s clear it does bother me. In fact, thinking about not only about Home Depot, but also my little 17-year-old self apologizing for doing someone else a favor, and then about the smart, accomplished women in this skit apologizing for something as benign and unavoidable as having an allergy, I can’t get over how much this bothers me.

As Harriett Learner, PhD points out in her Psychology Today article on this subject, the fact that this bothers me is not without merit:

I’ve been investigating the subject of apologies for over a decade, and it’s clear that over-apologizing can be about many things.  It may be a reflection of low self-esteem, a diminished sense of entitlement, an unconscious wish to avoid any possibility of criticism or disapproval before it even occurs, an excessive wish to placate and please, some underlying river of shame, or a desire to show off what a well-mannered Brownie Scout one is.

—Harriett Learner, PhD

Did you catch that? Low self-esteem, a diminished sense of entitlement, avoiding criticism or responsibility… this sound dangerously like my own list of terrifying and obnoxious inner-obstacles and while it isn’t something I’m going to beat myself up over, it is something that will choose to be personally concerned with.

I’m not going to apologize for apologizing too much, but I am going to begin paying attention to how often I apologize, acquiesce, move over, stand down, and just generally accept the short end of the stick.

I am going to work on changing that.

Why any of this matters

For me, this isn’t about policing women, or their language. It’s about encouraging women—all people, really—to stop feeling like they need to apologize for things that are not their fault—to stop apologizing for their mere existence.

Saying sorry doesn’t necessarily equate to showing weakness. But… women, more than men, feel apologetic about sharing their ideas, or their space, or…everything, actually. …women apologize when they’re not in the wrong. Handing over your child to your partner because you have other things in your hand? Asking a question in a meeting? An apology doesn’t seem to fit. And yet, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve heard a “sorry” in precisely these places. It’s become so normal in our culture, we may not even recognize we’re doing it.

—Ruchika Tulshyan, Forbes

Language matters.

The language that comes out of our mouth is reflecting something. And when it seems to be reflecting such a low view of myself, I want to do something about it. Without policing myself or being too hard on myself for an attitude I did not come by on my own, I want to work to change the way I think and speak so that I can, eventually, also change the way I feel about myself.

What to say instead.

When we’re working to change the way we communicate, it can feel helpful to have something to say instead of the thing we are used to saying.

What can we say instead of I’m sorry?


I shared the example above from the friend I worked with at Applebees: what would it look like to say, “Excuse me!” instead of “I’m sorry”? What would it look like to have an, Excuse me I’m coming through! attitude in your life?

Another alternative was suggested to me a few months ago by an older woman in my life. Her suggestion works particularly well when you are asking for some kind of accommodation or favor, or when you’re declining an invitation to something. She suggested instead of saying, “I’m sorry” you say, “I’m sure you understand” I’ve been doing this all the time lately and it’s fantastic.

I can’t make it tonight. I’m sure you understand.
I would love to help but my schedule is too full. I’m sure you understand.
I haven’t been able to get to my email. I’m sure you understand.
Would you be able to meet earlier? I’m sure you understand.
I’m allergic to gluten—I’m sure you understand.

It’s fantastic. It’s liberating to back off from my usual over-apologizing.

Finally, a third option came to mind as I was talking with a friend the other day. She pointed out that often when we say “I’m sorry” what we really mean is thank you. Isn’t that interesting? This reminded me of my trip to Home Depot. When I apologized for making the man walk “all the way” across the store with me, what I really meant was THANK YOU so much for making sure I got what I needed.

Not I’m sorry. But thank you.

Thank you for being so flexible
Thank you for understanding
Thank you for accommodating my request
Thank you for refilling my soda
Thank you for taking the time to talk with me

Women have an incredible amount of value and beauty to bring to the world and too many of us are holding back because we’re afraid of stepping on toes or being offensive. The truth is we could stand to be a little more “offensive” sometimes, a little more bold with our words and brave with our energy.

I hope you find this shift as helpful as I have.

Extra Resources:


The Confidence Code by Katty Kay and Claire Shipman
When I’m Sorry is Too Much, Psychology Today
Don’t Be Sorry Pantene Ad
Why Women Apologize, And Should Stop, New York Times
Why Over-Apologizing Is A Bad Thing

The post Why Women Apologize More Than Men (and What to Do About It) appeared first on Allison Fallon.

Why We Follow Strong, Dangerous, Narcissistic Leaders

I was on a plane from Nashville to LA when social media exploded with the news that Donald Trump would more than likely be the next republican nominee.

After months of sneering dismissals and expensive but impotent attacks from Republicans fearful of his candidacy, Mr. Trump is now positioned to clinch the required number of delegates for the nomination by the last day of voting on June 7. Facing only a feeble challenge from Gov. John Kasich of Ohio, Mr. Trump is all but certain to roll into the Republican convention in July with the party establishment’s official but uneasy embrace.

—Jonathan Martin and Patrick Healy, New York Times

This is something so few of us—myself included—thought would ever happen. I can remember back to when Trump first entered the presidential race, my predominant feeling—and the feeling of so many people around me—was, “this has to be a joke, right?” This will never happen… it can’t happen.”

Most of us believed it couldn’t.

So now that it is happening, it has me sitting here thinking about strong, dishonest, powerful, narcissistic, controlling, manipulative, and totally dangerous leaders and how they so often gain a following.

What is it that we find so compelling about narcissistic leaders?

Why are we attracted to them?

I’m of course not only talking about Trump here. I’m thinking about every fill-in-the-blank narcissistic leader in mainstream media or in our personal lives who has ever drawn us in with charisma and big promises and then let us down when we realize he wasn’t who he said he was.

Until we’ve learned this the hard way (and sometimes even after) it’s easy to be fooled by these big personalities. It happens to even the most well-intentioned of us. In fact, there’s a considerable amount of evidence showing you’re more likely to be duped by a narcissistic leader if you are kind, compassionate, empathetic, selfless and just generally well-meaning person.

Here’s what makes it so easy to get sucked into their whirlwind.

They’re incredibly convincing and charismatic

Some of the tell-tale signs of a narcissists include that they are charming, smart, intuitive, believable and great storytellers. This means that before we can even wonder if a narcissist is who he has presented himself to be, he’s already swept us off of our feet into the sweet little fantasy he is spinning for himself.

In his Harvard Business Review article, author Tomas Chamorro-Premuzic says:

Narcissists are masterful impression managers. Thanks largely to their intense self-obsession and self-adulation, narcissists excel at managing initial impressions… furthermore, narcissists’ desire to make a great initial impression enables them to disguise their arrogance as confidence…. unsurprisingly, narcissists perform well on interviews and they are excellent social networkers.

—Why We Love Narcissists, Harvard Business Review

Narcissists get by on charm.

Some people reading will think, “uh… Trump isn’t that charming,” but remember: Trump isn’t that charming to you. He is charming to exactly who he means to be charming to. This, by the way, is another quality of a true narcissist. They know their audience and are unflinchingly committed to playing their role to that audience—a role that is about achieving the desired end of power and control.

Think of your best friend’s boyfriend who you think is a total dirt bag but who she thinks couldn’t possibly be more amazing.

That’s because you aren’t his audience. She is.

And unless he believes that winning your approval will somehow help him to gain the control and power he wants over her, he won’t try. In fact, he will probably find a way to isolate her from you, because when you resist a narcissist, or choose not to play into his drama, he will disown you. You are no longer useful to him.

They control the story

My friend Donald Miller teaches business owners how to tell a clearer story with their brands by getting ruthless about cutting anything that doesn’t matter. This is a concept I teach writers in my workshops, too: that decent writers know what to say, but brilliant writers know what NOT to say. The clearer a story is, the more people are going to be able to understand it and reiterate it and the greater power and following it gains.

Narcissistic leaders know this and use it to their advantage.

They’re incredibly good at controlling the story.

Skillful narcissists can be some of the greatest storytellers. The narcissist can weave a complex story and mesmerize you with amazing statistics, trivia, quotes, history of events, to the point that you could feel overwhelmed. Naturally, they would be the center of those stories, often re-writing history.

—Christine Hammond, MS, LMHS

Obviously not everyone who is clear and controls their story is a narcissistic leader. But every narcissistic leader I’ve ever known has been impeccable at staying clear and controlling the story. In fact, most of the time they have little concern for whether or not the story they are telling is actually true—as long as it is clear and controlled.

Sometimes these leaders tell stories that don’t even make any sense, but they repeat them over and over again to us—enough times that we actually begin to believe them.

They capitalize on the power of group think.

Narcissists use their charm to win friends and gather groups of people around them who support their cause and play the role the narcissist asks of them. This not only strokes the narcissist’s tender ego, it also helps them validate the stories they are pitching about themselves to the world.

[Narcissists] are clever chameleons who are also people-pleasers, morphing into whatever personality suits them in situations with different types of people. It is no surprise, then, that the narcissist begins a smear campaign against you not too long after the discard phase, in order to paint you as the unstable one, and that this is usually successful with the narcissist’s support network which also tends to consist of other narcissists, people-pleasers, empaths, as well as people who are easily charmed.

—Five Powerful Ways Abusive Narcissists Get Inside Your Head, by Shahid Arabi

This is one of the hardest parts about dealing with a narcissist, since there are always a good number of people who like them, even love them, and who feel threatened anytime you suggest this person might not be who he or she says he is.

Should you ever get the courage or self-confidence to defy a narcissist for any reason, they will use their gift of storytelling to spin the story (see above) to make you seem like the crazy one.

They will continue to build their empire, even if you aren’t in it.

They get you stuck in the abuse cycle

True narcissists employ a very specific and intentional three-part cycle to get you roped into the story they’re weaving without a way out.

The cycle has three parts.

Idealize
Devalue
Discard

First they idealize you—which often involves showering you with affection and compliments. This is sometimes called “love-bombing” because of how intense their affection can be; and how alluring it is. Then, they devalue you. In the devaluation phase, the narcissist subtly criticizes you, puts you down, demoralizes your efforts, and leads you to believe that you are nothing without his support. (source)

If that doesn’t work to secure your loyalty to him—or if you cause him any kind of ego injury—the narcissists discards you.

This, by the way, is one of the reasons it can feel so impossible to get out from under the grip of a narcissist—because deep in your gut, you intuit that, as soon as you betray the narcissist, you become the enemy. You become the object of the very same attacks you’ve watched the narcissistic leader launch onto others.


Which leads me to my next point. 

They make us feel powerful.

One of the reasons it’s so easy to get roped in with a narcissist is they do make us feel safe and protected and, in a way, powerful.

Narcissists regularly rise to the top of workplace hierarchies owing to a unique ability to secure approval and admiration, two forms of recognition they need to survive in the way the rest of us need oxygen and water. Worse yet, narcissists are able to ascend to the upper echelons of organizations without revealing their true colors until they amass enough power to make it unnecessary to sustain their façade. Once a narcissist can say, “screw you” with impunity, he will use splitting to cut the legs out from under everyone he previously set-up to believe they were cared for.

—Five Ways to Shut Down A Narcissist, Forbes

As we watch a narcissist achieve ends we have dreamed of achieving but have never had the confidence to be able to actualize, we get this false sense that, if we only connect ourselves to this person, we might be able to achieve status, money, accolades, awards, and other markers he has.

It gives us a sense of value and power.

It’s false power, but it doesn’t always feel false.

The fact that Trump has made it this far in this presidential campaign tells me that a surprising number of people in this country feel powerless. Totally powerless. People who aren’t actually powerless feel powerless. And until we wake up one day and realize that we have more power than we ever dreamed possible and that with great power comes great responsibility, we will keep clinging to these strong, dangerous, narcissistic leaders.  

They make us think they have something we don’t have.

Like the man behind the curtain in the Wizard of Oz, narcissistic leaders are not necessarily more powerful or more intelligent than any of the rest of us. They are not God. They are just a tiny little dude behind a curtain. But they make a living and life convincing us they are more powerful than we are, and that we need the “thing” they are offering us.

But what is that “thing” exactly?

Can you name it?

The truth is—if we stop to think about it—they don’t have anything we don’t have. In fact, if anything, we have something they don’t.

People with narcissistic tendencies are drawn to such empathic, deeply feeling people and know that, on some level, they personally are lacking in emotional depth and substance. By being in a relationship with such a nurturing, loving person, the person with narcissism is able to consume that person’s authentic love and extract narcissistic supply. Once fed over the course of days, weeks, or months, the person with narcissism is satiated and may grow bored with his or her partner. He or she must secure the supply of another target, usually in short order.

—The Dizzying Cycle of Narcissism, GoodTherapy

We have to remember two things. First, just because narcissists think they have something we don’t doesn’t mean they do. And second, it is our fragile egos—our fear of failure, fears of inadequacy, etc—that are drawn to narcissistic leaders, not our true nature. Our true selves long for connection and compassion and human relationship: something narcissists are simply incapable to offer.

The danger of a true narcissist

It’s important to understand that while narcissists seem to be on top of the world when they’re at their best, when they’re true nature reveals itself, it is incredibly destructive. It ruins businesses and families and destroys relationships and lives.

The empire will fall. It’s not a matter of if, but when.

Do you want to be on that ship when it goes down?

One of the many dangerous tendencies of a narcissist is that he cannot control his propensity to rage. You might not notice this at first, but a true narcissist is addicted to the adrenaline rush he or she gets from acting angry.

It defends against his shame and powerfully controls his “other”.

At first their rage will be indirect, aimed at someone else. This demonstration of their power functions in such a way that it serves to intimidate and control others, including you. You are also likely to witness physical outbursts, like demonstratively putting their fists through a solid wall, breaking or throwing things, hurling abuse; and it won’t be too long after that when you will be on the receiving end of the violence. All of these tactics, along with their scathing criticism of you, are designed to erode your self-esteem, your confidence, and give them even more control over you.

The more fearful you become, the more they will rule by fear, it is as if their power is an aphrodisiac to them. As a result of the fear you will be subjected to, you will find yourself becoming highly vigilant, nervous and overly sensitive to every threat, walking on eggshells around your captor. The more insecure you become, the more powerful your narcissist becomes.

—The Three Faces of Evil, Christine Louis de Canonville

Did you catch that?

You will become highly vigilant, nervous and overly-sensitive. How ironic that you were first drawn to the narcissistic leader because he made you feel safe; but now that you’ve been in his grips, you feel more afraid than you’ve ever felt before?

This all leads me to the second very dangerous thing that happens when we follow narcissistic leaders which is that individual expression is lost. A man who gets swept up with a narcissistic woman in a romantic relationship will lose himself. His family and friends will say, “I don’t even recognize him anymore. Where did my son [brother, friend] go?”

You might wonder to yourself: what happened to me?

The person you once were seems to be a distant memory, just as Echo became a mere “whisper of herself” in the Myth of Narcissus, you too are becoming a mere shadow of your former self with each day that passes… In time you find yourself with nothing to say, you are becoming something you despise…Your sense of worth and esteem is so eroded that you begin to believe that nobody else would want you…Your only goal in life now is to fulfill your narcissist’s sense of entitlement, to live by their rules and laws, and keep your head down to avoid being punished at a whim.

—Andrea Schneider, LCSW

With this loss of individual expression, we lose EVERYTHING. We lose passion, vitality, creativity, energy, innovation, and all the very things that make this world beautiful and life worth living.

Pay attention to where narcissists are in control and notice that there is no room for anyone to be anything other than what the narcissist needs them to be. They take up all the space, all the air in a room, so often those around them feel they can’t even breathe. The empire, the control, the false sense of power—they might seem appealing in their own strange way.

But it is a house of cards that will come tumbling down.

Unfollowing a narcissistic leader

I need to be careful not to oversimplify this because breaking free from a narcissistic leader can be incredibly challenging. In fact, with a true sociopathic narcissist, getting out from under his or her grips might put you in actual danger.

But here are four things that come to mind:

Recognize the traits of narcissism—until we begin to recognize the traits of narcissism and get really honest about where and how they are playing a role in our culture and our lives, we won’t be able to escape from the narcissistic drama. Author Steven Burglas says in his Forbes article, “never delude yourself into believing the narcissist enjoys your company. He wants you to feel “special” so if he needs you, you’ll respond like Pavlov’s dogs.” I would say this is one of the first steps to unfollowing a narcissist: getting honest about how he really feels about you and what is actually happening.

Deal with your own feelings of powerlessness—getting honest about the traits of narcissism, of course, can’t happen if we aren’t also willing to confront our own feelings of powerlessness, deserved or undeserved. The truth is most people who get sucked into a narcissist’s grasp because of feelings of powerlessness aren’t actually powerless. Some are. But many aren’t. A healthy person integrates his or her real limitations and inadequacies with their many strengths and in doing so is able to embrace the true power he or she has always had.

Understand the cycle of abuse—understanding the cycle of abuse and how it works will help you see how you were implicated into the narcissist’s grips, and therefore how you can get out. This doesn’t promise to be easy. You will face consequences. But the consequences of staying are much, much greater. Also, if the thought of leaving feels impossible remember that if you don’t leave, they will eventually leave you.

No contact—Because of the cognitive dissonance that occurs when you’re in a relationship with narcissist (what’s truth becomes fiction), the only way to get back to reality is to do what licensed therapist Andrea Schneider calls going “full no contact” with the narcissistic leader. This means unfollowing on social media, un-friending on Facebook, and cutting off any and all other contact with this person.

Finally, you need a strong support system filled with people who are honest, authentic, good listeners and who see true power for what it is—something we find inside of ourselves when we stop trying to compete and perform and learn to love, serve, receive, connect and forgive.

Extra Resources

Why We Love Narcissists, Harvard Business Review
Five Articles on Narcissism and Narcissistic Abuse, Psych Central
The Dark Side of Charisma, Harvard Business Review
Five Things to Do Today When in A Relationship With A Narcissist, Psych Central

The Three Faces of Evil, Christine Louise de Canonville

The post Why We Follow Strong, Dangerous, Narcissistic Leaders appeared first on Allison Fallon.

On Being Single When You Wish You Weren’t

A friend of mine lost her husband in an accident only a few years after they had been married. At the time we were twenty-five and I couldn’t fully wrap my mind around her loss. I had been through a few break-ups, had lost a close friend and two grandparents, but her loss seemed so much bigger. So much different.

She would shake when I hugged her. That’s what I remember.

In the last six months of my life, the weight of her aloneness has become more clear to me, even if I still don’t fully understand it.

The unexpectedness of it. The sudden change of direction. The going from being married to being single within a matter of moments. I’m learning that being single when you wish you weren’t is less about coming to grips with your singleness as it is about coming to grips with the fact that life doesn’t always turn out how we plan.

I spoke with another friend the other day who is forty-something and single. She’s never been married. This is not the carefully mapped-out plan she made for herself. It is not what she expected. Quite the opposite, in fact. She, like so many of us, expected that she would meet “the one” for her at a party one day, or that they would catch each other’s glances at a coffee shop, or that he would accidentally deliver a pizza to her house instead of the neighbor’s.

These are the love stories we long for—with all their serendipity and mystery.

We do not long for love stories that end in divorce or in death or that, for reasons we are never fully able to understand, never get started in the first place.

And yet, here we are, many of us, living love stories we didn’t ask for and trying to make them beautiful and our own and living inside of them with all the gumption and passion and creativity and presence as we would have brought to the one we thought we’d have.

The challenge of finding love

I can remember back to being twenty-seven years old and feeling like I was getting so old. So old. Everyone was getting married, all of my friends. They were all “moving on” with their lives. What must be wrong with me that I hadn’t found my person? What must I be doing that I was somehow single when I wished I wasn’t? How could I fix this problem? How could I make the loneliness go away?




These are the thoughts that would go through my brain late at night.

You’re welcome.

Now that I look back (at almost 33), 27 years old doesn’t seem old anymore. I can see now how my singleness wasn’t a problem to be fixed, and how the loneliness I felt would have been so much more bearable if I wasn’t trying to pretend like I didn’t feel it. And finally, I am beginning to understand how meaningful and purposeful singleness can be, regardless of the fact that it sometimes comes when we don’t ask for it.

Looking for love, in it’s truest sense, isn’t about finding someone else. It’s about finding yourself again. —Robert Holden, Ph.D, Loveability

The stigma

But there’s a stigma around being single isn’t there?

On the one hand, there’s this quiet underlying feeling that marriage is the threshold into adulthood and that single people are somehow behind. I’m guessing very few people actually believe this to be true, but it is one of those pervasive thoughts that lingers with us, leftover from some old story. Like the foggy residue left on the mirror after a shower.

We expect to see it. But we can’t fully explain where it came from or exactly why it is there.

Then, on the very confusing other hand, we’re all supposed to be “totally content” with our single lives, living it up and just having the most amazing time. The number one piece of advice given to singles goes something like this: “when you stop looking for it, that’s when love will come.”

But is this really true? I’m not sure.

I know way too many stories which don’t fit that paradigm.

Meanwhile, none of this seems to allow for the possibility that a person could be deeply satisfied with the life they are building for themselves, and also desire to be sharing that life with a romantic partner. This does a better job of describing most of the singles I know. They are not desperate to be married—or at least not so desperate they are going to give up their lives and their ideas and their dreams to get there.

But they do wish and wonder if maybe it will happen for them someday. They pray they aren’t missing something.

They hope they didn’t take a wrong turn somewhere.

The “problem” of loneliness.

Then there’s the loneliness, which no one wants to talk about. Because if you love yourself and you “have a good community” and you don’t spend too much time on Facebook, you shouldn’t feel lonely at all. Or at least that’s how we talk about it—as if loneliness were some sort of disease we were trying to cure.

To be fair, I think there is some truth to those ideas.

By that I mean I think we can learn to love ourselves and stay connected to the people around us and that will help us turn down the volume of our loneliness. I do think social media—the exact platforms designed to keep us connected—so strangely and ironically make people feel more alone than we’ve ever felt before.

Too many of us feel isolated and alone in life. In our materially advanced and technologically sophisticated society, we’ve done little to advance a collective sense of love and relatedness. As a culture, we are well versed in growing ourselves in material value but terribly undernourished in recognizing the opportunities we have to give and receive love. These opportunities come our way constantly. Yet we often do not even acknowledge them, let alone allow ourselves to seize upon them.

—Katherine Woodward Thomas, Calling in the One

See—we do not need to be afraid of our loneliness, which is pointing to something.

The curse of being alone?

My grandpa—my dad’s dad—passed away more than ten years ago now, and I still remember the first conversation I had with my grandma after his death. I called the house and she picked up but didn’t say anything. All I could her was her gentle breathing on the other end of the line.

“Grandma?” I asked.

There was a long pause.

Finally, she spoke.

“He kissed me on our first date,” she said.

Then she stayed on the phone and kept weeping quietly and neither of us said anything. That was enough. It was enough for me to know how lonely she must feel. Sometimes, maybe, our loneliness just needs a quiet witness—just someone to acknowledge that it isn’t easy, and that it’s also so very out of our control, and to assure us that at the end of this day, the world will turn and we are going to wake up tomorrow to a new one.

See, singleness is not a curse that is cast down upon the unworthy. It is a natural, normal stage and phase of life. Aloneness will come to all of us, at some point or another, with or without our permission.

We might as well get good at navigating it.

Getting good at being alone

One of the great benefits to being single when you didn’t expect it is that it forces you to enjoy being with yourself. This might sound strange, but it’s a gift and a skill too many of us have avoided or ignored by numbing out with alcohol or Netflix or shopping or ice cream; or by conceding to relationships that are terrible for us but good distractions from the deep ache of loneliness.

The truth is a little loneliness is good for us.

It is only when we have surrendered to our aloneness that we are finally able to answer the question far too many of us have been avoiding.

Who am I without you?

Who am I on my own?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German pastor known for his staunch resistance to the Nazi regime, went as far as to say, “Until we can be alone with our own thoughts, we are a danger to society.” A danger to society. Soak that in. I think what he means is that, until we can get comfortable with the beautiful and terrible parts of ourselves, until we come to grips with the fact that we are capable of great good and great evil…we are flying blind.

Or flying drunk might be a better metaphor.

Blind people know they can’t see. Drunk people have a terrible reputation for thinking: I’m fine. I’m totally fine.

Until we get good at being alone, we won’t actually be that good at being together.

Loneliness wakes us up to ourselves.

A beautiful unfolding.

I heard a quote from the poet David Whyte about aloneness a few weeks ago that stopped me dead in my tracks. If you get a chance, you should check out the On Being podcast, where he recites this line within the first five seconds. Hearing him speak his own words is powerful.

They go like this:

Sometimes it takes darkness or the sweet confinement of your aloneness to realize that anyone or anything that does not bring you alive is too small for you.

—David Whyte

Here’s what I think he’s saying: sometimes it takes the deep pain of loneliness to discover the beauty of yourself.

The gifts you have to bring to the world
The passions lying dormant inside of you
The things you’ve always wanted to do but have been too scared
The help you think you need from someone else that you can give to yourself
The incredible power you have to ask for help
The inner-strength that rises up like a wild animal to accomplish tasks you thought were too big for you
The direct connection you have to the divine
The friendship you have to off yourself
The deep sense of care and compassion for yourself and others

What if, instead of asking the questions we tend to ask in our singleness, questions like what must be wrong with us or what we could have done differently to keep that last relationship from ending, or how we can find our next one… what if we just allowed the aloneness to shape us, to form us, to show us how beautiful and amazing we have been all along?

Breathe that in.

Sometimes aloneness is what it takes for you to experience your beautiful unfolding.

Learning to Pay Attention

One of the great gifts of being alone when you wish you weren’t is that there is nothing but time to pay attention. You suddenly begin to notice things you weren’t able to notice before.

You simply didn’t have the time, or the energy.

You were too distracted.

You begin to notice things like the voices in your own head, like the thoughts you think about yourself and other people, like the way the forsythia bush blooms outside your front window, and the not-so-subtle way the light shifts across the room from morning until dusk. Somehow you never noticed those things before, but now you do.

As Julia Cameron suggests, there is a great reward for paying attention.

“The reward for attention is always healing. It may begin as the healing of a particular pain—the lost lover, the sickly child, the shattered dream. But what is healed, finally, is the pain that underlies all pain: the pain that we are all, as Rilke puts it, “unutterably alone”. More than anything else, attention is an act of connection.” Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way

Attention is an act of connection. If that is true—and I think it is—then it means the salve for our aloneness is present in us and around us, at all times. It means that as we begin to pay attention, we begin to feel more connected to ourselves and others. Maybe this is why Instagram and Facebook and other platforms like them have a tendency to make us feel lonely.

They distract us from paying attention.

All we have to do is pay attention.

None of it is wasted.

The incredible thing that begins to happen as we pay attention is we realize nothing is wasted. Not one minute. Not the terrible relationship we stayed in for way too long, not the wonderful guy we dated but never married, not the years we spent in a marriage that ended. The invisible timeline we’ve been living by doesn’t exist.

It’s not a thing. Sure, our biological clocks are ticking and we only have so many years on this earth…

Sure.

But as such… shouldn’t we be enjoying them? Shouldn’t we be surrendering the things over which we have no control and paying attention to all the ways life is unfolding with us and for us? It’s so hard to live here. It’s so hard to trust. But if we can do it, we relieve the stress of thinking marriage is some sort of finish line, and find ourselves paying attention to a life that is full and deep and beautiful and rich.

Already. As it is.

No minute of your life is wasted. Not your single life. Not your dating life. Not your married life. Because the great gift and the great challenge of life is that, when you leave one season, you take yourself into the next.

All that you’ve battled. All that you’ve accomplished. All that you’ve become.

And you, my friend, are becoming truly remarkable.

Extra Resources

Loveability by Robert Holden, PhD
Calling in the One , by Katherine Woodward Thomas
Love Your Single Life , with Stephanie May Wilson
On Being podcast w/ Krista Tippet and David Whyte

The post On Being Single When You Wish You Weren’t appeared first on Allison Fallon.