Stories Link Copied 03.18.25

31 People Share How They’re Coping Right Now

Jurassic Park, rage singing, and drinking kombucha in a parking lot. It’s all here. BySusie Moore

If you’re feeling off this year, you’re certainly not alone. Things have been happening at a rapid-fire pace, and we can only take so much. 

As a life coach, I know there are plenty of very mindful, healthy ways to relieve anxiety. But I learned never to shame a coping skill years ago. For better or worse, we all have our thing.

Maybe you’re an overachiever who lists 125 things you’re grateful for as soon as you crack an eyelid. That’s impressive and probably effective. But there’s also the healing power of trash TV and fancy candy. Whatever gets you through, gets you through. There’s no need to judge it.

While I wouldn’t exactly recommend a three-hour TikTok scroll at 2 a.m. while eating out of a box of cereal (actually, the cereal is fine; the TikTok spiral, not so much), there are a lot of easy ways to decompress while persisting through this very long year. 

Here, I asked people how they’re coping with stress amid the constant chaos. Some of their answers might surprise you—or at least make you feel less alone. 

1. Running errands

“I go to the grocery store alone. When I’m done, I enjoy a soda or a kombucha in my truck in the parking lot. I break off a piece of my $4 bar of dark chocolate and just take a moment to do nothing.” —Heather, 41

2. Taking a staycation on the couch

“I sometimes struggle with anxiety from world events, politics, and the breakdown of the village around me—especially as a working mom. So, I find comfort in the fictional town of Stars Hollow by rewatching The Gilmore Girls. It feels nostalgic and warm to return to a place where neighbors pitch in and the native language is punchy, quippy, and clever. Call it dissociation or a staycation on the couch, but it works for me!” —Kathy, 44 

3. Checking in

“My friend and I send a voice note to each other every morning stating our positive intentions for the day.” —Francesca, 40

4. Shifting your perspective 

“I sit and visualize the cosmic hierarchy until my problems become small and distant. Going from Earth to our solar system, galaxy, and 13 billion-year-old universe helps me see how small my biggest concerns are.” —Heath, 38

5. Doing something with friends

“Whether it’s lunch with a friend or a night out, getting out of the house helps me cope.  Even if I don’t want to leave, once I’m out I never regret it. It always feels refreshing.” —Danielle, 36

6. Focusing on one thing at a time 

“Being as present as possible in whatever I do keeps my brain from thinking too far ahead, even with so much going on.” —Amy Purdy, 45

7. Dancing for the hell of it

“I’ve been hosting virtual dance parties set to Y2K music and reggaeton (think Missy Elliott and Bad Bunny) and it has brought me so much joy! The positive energy shift helps me feel more creative, embodied, and confident as we all move through uncertainty.” —Kimberly, 32

8. Finding safe spaces

“Going for a drive alone tends to clear my head. Sometimes I’ll call a close friend who is a safe space and allows me to speak freely while I’m out and about. That always gives me a good reset.” —Jamie, 41 

9. Naming your existential anxiety

“I had a therapist who offered an interesting tool: He told me to personify my anxiety. Give it a name, dress it up in an outfit, put it in a real place, and then have a conversation with it like it’s a person. Ask what it wants or what it needs to calm down. Then ask it to go away. Then, the idea of anxiety doesn’t feel like a monster, but a tangible thing you can have a conversation with.” —Tim, 44

10. Just breathing

“Smell the flowers, blow out the candles.” —Cali Rose, 3

11. Watching good TV

“I’m watching Younger (and other fun comfort shows) on Netflix like it’s my job. While I’m cooking, while I’m eating lunch, while I’m folding laundry. It’s turned mundane tasks into something fun. This way, the horrors don’t take over my brain and it’s easier to do the things I need to take care of myself.” —JJ, 40 

12. Getting grounded

“I do the butterfly hug, crossing my arms over my chest and alternately tapping my shoulders in a nice, steady rhythm. Once my body feels safe, my emotions, thoughts, and the world feel more manageable.” —Kate, 41

13. Reading 

“I’ve been reading a lot of fiction whenever the overwhelm starts to creep up on me. Being immersed in another supernatural world allows my mind and body to take a break and just relax.”  —Jody, 36

14. Staying present

“These days I am using the monk, Zen master, and activist, Thich Nhat Hanh’s breath practice: ‘I feel my inhale; I feel my exhale.’ It’s that simple.” —Annmerle, 73

15. Getting out of dodge. 

“Sometimes a change of scenery is all I need to gain a little clarity, perspective, and hope that there will be better times ahead. Also, getting out of town reminds me it’s my responsibility to enjoy my life while I still have one!” —Tara, 37

16. Doing the little things

“Going to bed earlier, wearing my favorite PJs, expressing my gratitude for the day, kissing my husband goodnight, spending more time in nature, noticing the birds and my surroundings, being still, and trying to lift up at least one person each day helps.” —Natalie, 62 

17. Letting that shit go

“I pay attention to any thoughts that are weighing me down or making my head spin, and I intentionally release them. It might sound crazy, but I feel so grounded afterward.” —Lauren, 31 

18. Walking the dog

“I’m loving my daily lunchtime walks. I take my dog and leave my phone. We call it unplugging to recharge, and I swear that I sleep better!” —Krystalyn, 35

19. Matching music to your mood

“I’ll gladly turn to a rage song and scream-sing for as long as I need. Then, I’ll play something calming or joyful to get my body relaxed and grooving to a happy tune.” —Sadie, 41

20. Chilling out

“If it’s cold outside, I open a window or step out. If not, I get an ice pack or cold wash cloth and put it on the back of my neck. Splashing my face with cold water works too.” —Ashley, 38

21. Taking a bubble bath.

“I cope by making time to wind down at the end of every day. My favorite coping routine is a candlelit Epsom salt bubble bath with essential oils, a cup of tea, and a good read.” —Erica, 40

22. Watching movies

“I’ve been rewatching the Jurassic Park movies, which somehow feel very relevant right now. Though things get hectic, our favorite characters live through it.” —Serena, 46

23. Feeling the gratitude 

“I think of a thing I’m grateful for that day, and I try to expand that feeling so it encompasses my whole body.” —Courtney, 48

24. Using all of the tools

“I’m reading all the smutty books I can get my peri-menopausal hands on, staying off social media, and focusing my frustrations on ways I can make an actual change (i.e. local and state-level politics).” —Karen, 47

25. Riding a bike

“Cycling in the forest with my kids is pure magic!” —Carrie, 37

26. Using your phone ~mindfully~

“I am mindful of how I consume the news or social media. A wise woman once told me to treat my phone like a fork, only using it when I truly need to.” —Michelle, 44

27. Going on a walk

“I love walking every day at lunchtime. It gets me out and allows me to reset.” —Krysta, 38

28. Writing 

“Journaling my guts out first thing every morning when I wake up (without my phone) for 45 minutes is what I’ve done for 17 years. It gives my crazy thoughts a place to go.” —Anna, 45 

29. Being silly

“I mimic every funny sound my toddler makes until we both start laughing!” —Andreana, 36

30. Tapping it out

“EFT tapping helps me process my emotions, calm down, and shift my mindset when I’m feeling overwhelmed or anxious.” —Allie, 37

31. Making time for my friends

“Sisterhood is everything to me and my mental health. I’m not sure if they know how much I rely on them for this.” —Angelina, 39

Susie Moore is host of the Let It Be Easy podcast. 

The post 31 People Share How They’re Coping Right Now appeared first on Wondermind.

Pro Tips Link Copied 01.09.25

Let 2025 Be the Year That We Stop Glorifying Exhaustion

The surprising productivity tip you probably haven't tried: slowing the eff down. BySusie Moore

If your social media feeds are anything like mine, you’re currently seeing a whole lot of New Year, New You propaganda encouraging you to hustle harder: Join the 5 a.m. club to meditate, or exercise, or start a new hobby. Wake up early so you can get ahead of everyone else at work—and stay up late to do the same. This year can be your year if you just stay focused—eyes on the prize. 

Year after year, it’s the same message. But what if we rewrote the narrative? What if we decided it’s cooler (and honestly more efficient) to give yourself a damn break every once in a while? Could we stop feeling guilty for sleeping in, canceling plans, or going to bed early? 

If we did, we might find that prioritizing rest is more productive than pushing through physical or mental exhaustion to complete your to-do list. You wouldn’t lend your car to someone too tired to drive, so why let yourself move through life exhausted?

For overachievers or people with big goals, this concept might feel uncomfortable. Maybe you’re used to wearing your fatigue like a sign of virtue, evidence of your work ethic. If that’s the case, here’s a gentle reminder that placing rest last on your list never ends well. As a life coach who works with entrepreneurs and other successful people, this is something I see all the time. 

Here’s why exhaustion and fatigue aren’t something to push through (or an inherent byproduct of a successful life), plus some very good reasons to make time for rest this month.

Fatigue is just feedback.

Have you ever spent time with an over-tired child? The crying, the kicking, the, “No, I don’t want that!!!!!” *screeeechhhhhh* You know adults function the same way, right? Just a tad more restrained. 

I’ll never fail to marvel at how snappy and even a little depressed I get when I’m tired.

I feel the need to move to another continent or overhaul my entire life. But, after a good, long nap and a glass of water, I feel like a brand-new, content, peaceful woman. 

Fatigue acts like a foggy lens that obscures what’s real and what’s good. I therefore owe rest to myself and anyone within a few feet of me. (My husband no longer wants to entertain the idea of packing it all up and moving to a remote Scottish island.)

Our bodies are incredible. They often tell us exactly what they need when they need it. But we don’t always listen. We think we know better, right? I’m a badass *I say as I stifle a yawn and try to hide the fact that my eye is twitching*. The truth is, you can’t hack fatigue. When your body is tired, it’s telling you to slow down. 

A friend of mine was once traveling the world opening up a new chain of retail stores. With the deadlines, jetlag, and her refusal to pause even for a day, after a few weeks she ended up in the hospital with exhaustion. Her body was essentially saying, Enough. It forced her to stop, drop, and rest because she wouldn’t do it herself.

This is an extreme example, I know. Still, I’ve never forgotten it. I think about her and urge anyone to recognize the early stages of their fatigue as a sign that it’s time to take a break. When we don’t make time to rest our bodies, sometimes our bodies choose a time for us. And why lose control of our calendar if we don’t have to? 

Rest drives success.

Recently, I spoke to a client about her intention for 2025. She’s a highly driven entrepreneur who always comes up with new ideas and executes them fast. She started telling me about a new “power move” she wanted to make. She was yawning as she spoke. “Susie, I just feel like I need to go big…” she shared, enthusiasm-less. 

“I understand that a power move matters to you,” I answered, “But maybe we start with a power rest!” She sat up straighter. So did I. I was kind of surprised by my own words (life coaches are all about action, baby), but they felt true.

When we’re tired, we don’t have as much to give—even if our aspirations are super high. But when we take a break, we might move faster than we ever could have without doing so. 

It’s sort of like the agricultural concept of a “fallow year.” This is a year in which fields are intentionally left unplanted so the soil can replenish itself. That can fuel its future productivity and prepare the ground for long-term abundance. What I’m saying is a deliberate pause helps everything regenerate. A break isn’t an indulgence, it’s an investment.

Sounds good in theory, but I’ve seen this play out in real life too. For example, one of my clients, an attorney with crazy hours, started implementing a 10 p.m. bedtime—and it completely changed the game for her.

Her focus was sharper during the day, it was easier for her to solve problems at work, and she felt more energized about her life as a whole. She even started reading fiction again, something she loved but felt too lethargic after work to bother with.

Sleep has the power to reveal the real, full you. What might fatigue be blotting out in your life? We owe it to ourselves to find out.

Saying no is a sign of self-respect.

When I was a new, side-hustling life coach, I juggled clients and kept up a busy full-time day job that required lots of travel. That made rest even more essential. To chill out, I’d joyfully skip weekend social plans and end-of-day happy hours. “Sorry, can’t!” was all I’d say—and the right people understood. 

I’d also give myself one whole day per week to do absolutely nothing (no cooking, no spin class, no laundry, no mani-pedi, nothing). I knew I needed time to decompress to keep doing it all. I also knew that no one else would—or could—institute a rest day for me. 

These boundaries created a sense of respect for myself, and I noticed that the world responded in kind. When I showed up to events I was appreciated (nothing like a little scarcity to boost demand), my people knew I wanted to be there, I was in a great mood, and I was present. What better way to build a life coaching business and promote my skillset than coming as my best self? 

If you have lofty goals, respecting your own boundaries helps you prioritize rest. Plus, the act of putting your needs (see: sleep, downtime, doing nothing) at the top of the to-do list might even help you reach those goals faster.

Craving rest is a reason to take it.

I’ll never forget a text I received from a friend after news broke about a celebrity being placed on house arrest. “I envy her!” it read, “think of all the sleep she’ll get!”

I laughed out loud then immediately felt a little…sad? I felt similarly when my friend’s super-energetic mum had knee surgery and said, “Susie, this is the first time I did nothing for years! Who knew surgery could be nice?” It was fascinating how, even in a jokey sense, we need some dramatic circumstance to help us slow down.

If you’ve ever secretly wished for the flu so you could take a mental break or felt jealous of someone taking time off (of their own volition or not), that’s your sign to do the same. 

There are plenty of pro-productivity reasons to rest—and we’ve talked about a lot of them already. However, wanting to take a break is reason enough to just take one. You don’t have to emerge slaying your KPIs to justify time off. 

To me, a lack of rest is often a manifestation of a lack of self-love. Imagine if your partner or best friend only took a break when something extreme happened. If they were feeling burned out, I’m pretty sure you’d tell them to take a beat and rest up—not to push through until they have a more legit excuse. That’s so mean! So why do we say that to ourselves? 

I say, stop the madness! If we need a minute, let’s put ourselves under a metaphorical house arrest. *No ankle monitor necessary! 

Susie Moore is host of the Let It Be Easy podcast.

The post Let 2025 Be the Year That We Stop Glorifying Exhaustion appeared first on Wondermind.

Pro Tips Link Copied 10.23.24

4 Tips for Becoming Rejection-Proof, From a Life Coach Who Helps People Do This Every Day

Gotta risk it for the biscuit. BySusie Moore

My first full-time job was as a receptionist at a Volkswagen dealership, but I had my sights set on the sales team. They had freedom from their desks, and their success was reflected in the money they made. I spent every spare moment shadowing them, helping their clients, and absorbing all the knowledge I could (never mind that I completely neglected my receptionist duties).

So, when I was called to my boss’s office two months after starting, I felt a surge of adrenaline. This is it! I thought. I’m getting promoted! I was sure someone must have noticed my initiative. I excitedly strode up the stairs to the boss’s office. Should I negotiate? Will this be an immediate transition? What about getting business cards? Stay gracious, Susie. Shoulders back!

My high vibe was thrown off a cliff the second I sat down. “Susie, there’s no easy way to say this—we’re letting you go. You’re not doing the job we hired you for.” I cried after I left the building. I was too embarrassed to tell my coworkers I’d been fired. 

Seeing rejection as redirection 

When I called the headhunter who’d placed me in the position, I told the truth: “I don’t think I’m cut out for admin work, not even as a stepping stone.” I was surprised when she agreed. And—get this—she immediately hired me for a sales role at her firm. I was actually rejected into a better job. That moment became a turning point in my adult life. I learned not to label rejection as “bad” so quickly. I had more trust that things often work out.

That sales role helped me land a new gig at a larger recruitment company—and, eventually, I was hired for two more big roles I wasn’t necessarily the most qualified for. Despite the risk of rejection, going after what I wanted continued to pay off. 

By the time I was 30, I started reflecting on my goals. I enjoyed and appreciated my job, but I knew it wasn’t my life’s work. I wanted to help people progress, problem-solve, and make big strides forward in their lives. I wanted to be a life coach.

At that point, the life coaching industry was still pretty new. Not everyone knew what a coach was or why you might hire one (“Cool, what sport?” was a question I got more than once). Some of the most successful coaches were well-known authors and seminar leaders who were oceans ahead of me. Rejection felt like a not-impossible fate. 

Like any career change I’d made in the past, I knew this one would make me vulnerable to others’ opinions about what I had to offer. Still, I reasoned, the worst-case scenario was ending up back in a sales role. And if that was the worst outcome, I was already living my worst-case life. Rejection was worth the risk.

So I signed up for life coaching classes at New York University. After nearly a decade of coaching, I’ve helped thousands of clients face rejection, rebound, and get after their goals no matter the setback. Here are my tried-and-true tips for rejection-proofing your life. 

1. Notice when you’re the one doing the rejecting.  

You’ve probably already rejected someone today. Maybe you ignored a text, canceled plans, dismissed someone’s idea, declined an invitation, forgot to invite a friend to a party, zoned out during a conversation, scrolled past a friend’s Instagram post, or just avoided eye contact with someone.

For the most part, it’s all pretty harmless. And yet, when we feel rejected, we rarely see it in the same innocuous way. Instead, we spiral, overthinking it for hours. 

It’s like the time I was ghosted by a new friend. We were supposed to meet up on a recent trip of mine (I picked the cutest outfit!). But in the days leading up to lunch, she went radio silent. The cells in my body recalled the sting of being snubbed. Then I remembered that her silence probably had nothing to do with me—and I snapped out of it.

Weeks later, I received a heartbreaking WhatsApp apology from her. She’d been going through a miscarriage. 

It goes to show how wrong our assumptions can be when someone lets us down. We don’t always know the whole story, so we can’t assume we were ignored or fired or ditched because we’re despicable and everyone hates us. Instead of believing the worst, why not give everyone the benefit of the doubt? Shit happens.

2. Start collecting rejections.  

I consider all rejections proof of something, so I treasure each one. You went for it! You tried something new! You were brave! Every “no” is a testament to you and something to be proud of. Bravo! 

Because I celebrate the courage to act more than the outcome, I love to set up “rejection challenges” in my work as a life coach. To complete the challenge, my clients have to be rejected 10 times within one week. Whether you get a win along the way or not, collecting your rejections like little trophies helps you separate your self-worth from the setbacks. You see them as a part of the process—not the end result.

And when you keep taking action, what once seemed impossible suddenly becomes possible! Thanks to my challenge, one client got her first paid speaking gig. Another had an incredible day shadowing a TV producer friend (she wants to get into the entertainment biz). One saved $300 asking for a Memorial Day sale to be extended to her outdoor furniture purchase. You can’t win without the possibility of failure. 

3. Think of what rejection might be moving you toward.

When my boss gave me the boot, he found a suitable receptionist for the company, and I was redirected toward a career path that was more aligned with my abilities and interests. It was an eventual double win.

There are so many examples like this throughout our lives, and I see it all the time. One of my life coaching clients was devastated when her fiancé called off their wedding. But she soon fell in love with someone wonderful she met getting her Master of Business Administration degree. They now have a daughter and live happily abroad.

My husband was disappointed for weeks when he wasn’t chosen for a lateral position within the bank where he worked. Not long afterward, he was approached for a better role that led us to New York City! His rejection was the catalyst for our next chapter. 

In my experience working with thousands of clients (and within my own life), rejections and setbacks are often a nudge in the right direction. This can sound annoyingly optimistic when we’re going through it. We want what we want when we want it. But it’s soothing to remember that a delay isn’t necessarily a denial. Give it time.

4. Do a vulnerability cost-benefit analysis.

In the early days of building my life coaching business and marketing myself to potential clients, I knew I had to post videos to YouTube and create social media content to reach my audience. But, even with a healthy relationship with rejection, I was nervous. I worried about negative comments and trolls. 

Around that time, I received some strength from a surprising source: Kris Jenner. I interviewed Kris for an article I wrote as a freelancer. When it went live, she Tweeted it and tagged me. While the shoutout was amazing, I was more preoccupied with the flood of comments. I’ve never read such disgusting commentary in my life. I thought, Trolls happen to everyone. Kris shakes it off and launches a new brand by lunchtime.

That experience led to an epiphany: The key to pressing on is having something more important than fear in the driver’s seat. So, instead of avoiding vulnerability, I weighed the benefits of posting content against the risk of doing it. I asked myself, Is this worth being rejected for? In the end, my goal (succeeding as a life coach) was more important than my sensitivity. 

Susie Moore hosts the top-rated podcast, Let It Be Easy.

The post 4 Tips for Becoming Rejection-Proof, From a Life Coach Who Helps People Do This Every Day appeared first on Wondermind.

Essay Link Copied 08.21.24

Hosting Dinners Is Healing My Childhood Shame 

It’s never too late to give yourself whatever you’ve missed out on. BySusie Moore

One day I was driving past a friend’s place and texted her to wave through the window at me as I went by. In a matter of seconds, she said, “Come in! I’m making lentil soup!” 

I mean…what? Is everyone so guest-ready? Do you all secretly work at Good Housekeeping or something?

I’ve often wondered if I’m the only one who has felt weird or anxious about having people over. I’ve noticed friends do it with such ease—even last minute—just like *snaps fingers*. A “come over for dinner later?” text seems so casual to them, while I would need days to prepare the meal and my home (nice soap, check!) and, most importantly, my emotions. 

Up until this year, I could never.

Growing up, I lived in a blend of government housing and women’s shelters, which made me different from my friends. 

Women’s shelters are, by nature, safe houses, meaning visitors aren’t allowed. So it was always uncomfortable during a sleepover at their blissfully normal home when a friend asked, “When can I come to your house?” 

In the years we lived in government housing, where visitors were allowed, the I have to hide this part of me sentiment followed. 

I didn’t talk about my home life ever. When my friends spoke about a new bike, puppy, car, or even new pajamas, I’d ask questions to avoid the conversation swerving to me. Luckily, people love talking about themselves! 

My life looked different than my friends. My dad didn’t live with us, we didn’t have a car, pets, or any new stuff. We got by with second-hand sofas and donated school uniforms. (When I pass a church accepting donations these days, I notice my eyes grow wet.) I was ashamed of all that, so I said very little about my existence outside of school, even to my closest childhood friends. 

That meant I almost never invited anyone over. I felt too embarrassed. I was a good student and had a lot of friends, so I preferred to let people assume my home life was just like my school life: fun and normal. Unlike my schoolmates’ houses, which had snacks, breakfast options (options!), and packed pantries, we didn’t have more than we needed. With our limited menu and our humble government housing, I worried that I’d be looked-down upon by my peers. 

Decades passed, I got my own place(s), and I’d occasionally invite friends to come over when I knew I had plenty of time to make my home look as perfect as possible. But then, something curious happened earlier this year. After spending a month traveling, an algorithmic gift arrived at just the right time. While scrolling through Instagram, I saw a video posted by a content creator who invited her 102-year-old neighbor over for a last-minute dinner of leftover pasta with butter. She was embarrassed, calling it the“lowest-on-the-totem-pole” meal she could offer. But declared, “People need people, not perfection!”

At that point I was craving more time at home, and I also wanted to see my people. That was a real predicament for someone (me) who primarily invited friends to go out, not stay in. I don’t know if I was aware of it at the time, but a part of me was still scared to let them fully into my space.

But after watching that video, I realized I had an all-or-nothing mindset. I thought if I had people over, it had to be perfect. If not, I’d risk exposing an “imperfect” area of my life (I’m no Martha Stewart) and risk losing control of how people see me overall. 

That sweet Instagram clip felt like a motivating arrow to my chest. It made me think that I may be missing out. It’s not the most elegant food or setting that nourishes us, it’s presence and warmth. I also felt good knowing that homey influencers, the ones who seemingly live perfectly all the time, sometimes felt self-conscious in the same way I do.

So, over the last several months, I set out to host regular and more impromptu dinners at my apartment in hopes of getting the things younger me always wanted: a feeling of having plenty and the freedom to show my authentic self to the people I love. In the end, I wound up healing the parts of me that wanted to hide. 

Take it from me, if you’ve been putting off a casual gathering you secretly might like to hold, the best way to do it…is to do it. Here are the unexpected ways hosting dinners in my apartment helped heal my childhood shame. 

It made me realize I actually do have enough.

One time at school there was an assignment asking us to name and describe a few items in our garage. Garage? I’ve never had one of those! My mum sent a letter to the teacher saying, “Sorry, we do not have any of this. Susie cannot complete this homework.” 

I became well aware of not having what other people have—or knowing what other people know. Even when I was on my own, I felt ignorant. I kind of leaned into the idea that I’m a “career woman” to explain why I don’t cook, but the real me just felt like I missed out on the adult guide to entertaining. I decided it was better not to let people see I don’t know what I’m doing.

But with my fresh motivation to connect in deeper ways, I immediately texted my friend Adam and his boyfriend to come over for…burgers! And not burgers that I ordered in (past me would do this and then blame the restaurant if anything sucks), I found a recipe and made them myself. 

This one act opened me up in a brand new way. I never viewed myself as a cook or host, but being one that day proved me wrong. I could be those things. 

Through my simple burger flipping and serving, I began to heal the younger version of me who felt ill-equipped to create a nice experience and scared of not knowing how to do something I was never taught.

I discovered that I actually have everything I need. My friends were happy, leaning into their island stools with their beers, sharing their latest news. All of the pressure was in my head. 

Making simple meals, allowing people to see where I spend most of my time, and tucking into my imperfect cheese plate is proof that I do know what I’m doing and have enough to share. There’s nothing like disproving a story you’ve been telling yourself for decades.

I discovered a new level of intimacy. 

When someone sees your space, your art, and your colorful ramekins (from Istanbul, in case you’re wondering), you see more sides of a person than when you only meet in restaurants and bars. My bookshelf, for example, is prominent and packed with self-help titles and the English classics. Nothing reveals your soul more than the literature you read (a 100% scientific fact).

After I started having more casual hangouts at my place, my friends would ask questions or make comments on parts of my life that meant a lot to me. They’d say, “I love seeing where you record your podcast!” (it’s called Let It Be Easy! Check it out here) and “Oh, this French poster is so fun” (I was a nanny in France when I was 18).  This opens a dialogue about my work, what I most care about (self-help and books, if you haven’t guessed), and even my relationship with France. 

I used to think my home was wrong somehow compared to everyone else’s, but having people see it and spend time in it in an unrushed way proves that everything is fine as is. Having the details of my life, personality, and history on display deepen my connections and make me feel seen from different angles.

I always feel closer to a person after having been in their home, don’t you? You can picture them in their kitchen when they’re chatting with you on the phone, making coffee. You’ve met the dog that’s yapping in the background. Maybe you’ve run into the oddball neighbor in the lift that you’ve heard funny stories about. You can know them more fully. 

Now that I’m letting people into the place I feel most like myself, I feel like I’ve peeled back another layer of who I am, allowing my friends to see what makes me me.

It taught me that no one’s judging

I used to go to school with a girl named Stephanie. She had the most beautiful house— a formal dining room, pristine white carpets, a big TV, and endless snacks. I remember thinking, This is what a proper home looks like. It would be way too embarrassing for me to invite someone to my place after they’ve been to Stephanie’s. Fucking Stephanie. 

But hosting dinners is dissolving the fear of comparison for me. I used to think I had to keep up with some invisible standard set by the Stephanies of the world, but I’ve realized that no one’s holding me to it—other than scared, 7-year-old me. 

Through hosting, I soothe her. When friends come over, I’m able to show her that they’re just focused on enjoying the moment. They’re not comparing my place to someone else’s, just like I would never compare my friends’ homes. Would you ever say, “I’m going to Katie’s house, not Claire’s, this weekend because her cutlery’s superior.” I don’t think so! My friends are not critiquing my crockery or judging my charcuterie board. They’re just happy to be with me and have a good time. And you know what? So am I.

Every time I invite someone into my home now, I know they’re not expecting a Pinterest-perfect experience. They’re here for connection, and that’s something I do well. The younger me is healing in new and unexpected ways because I understand that no one is comparing—least of all, my friends.

The post Hosting Dinners Is Healing My Childhood Shame  appeared first on Wondermind.

Stories Link Copied 10.12.23

5 Life Lessons I Took Away From Growing Up in Domestic Violence Shelters

“When so much is going on, the inner you is always right there.” BySusie Moore

I was six months old when I arrived at a domestic violence shelter for the first time. My mum, without shoes, ran with me and my sister to a pay phone to call the police after my dad hit her and threatened to kill her in a drunken fury. The fight was familiar.

When she got out of the house that night, her only concern was getting away from him. It was survival. The police arrived, but they were reluctant to get involved. Like many places around the world, in the U.K., where I’m from, domestic violence was often considered “a family matter,” according to my mother. And it might not be much better today, with police making just 31.3 arrests per 100 domestic abuse-related crimes and averaging 23.8 days to charge someone in a domestic abuse-related case (the highest in four years) per the Office for National Statistics 2022 report.

That night wasn’t the first time this had happened. But because of my dad’s increasing threats, my mum refused to return to the house (she says she’s still scared to think of what could’ve happened if she hadn’t left). While my dad had his moments of genuine warmth, his unpredictability scared her, especially with young lives to protect. So the police took us to what would become the first of a series of domestic violence shelters we visited on and off until I was 11 years old.

Like many facing intimate partner violence (26% of women worldwide, per a 2018 report by the World Health Organization), systematic structures encouraged us to continue suffering in secret. We lived in a small town where everyone knew each other. We went to church on Sunday. Separating kids from their dad and “telling people what happened behind closed doors” was an incredibly tough decision for my mother. Still, she was able to seek help, to protect herself and us—something many enduring domestic violence struggle to do. [Editor’s note: If that’s you, and you live in the U.S., consider calling the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 (SAFE) or 1-800-787-3224 (TTY) for anonymous, confidential help available 24/7, or visit thehotline.org.]

Over the course of 10 years, as we navigated life amongst other families in shelters, I learned some of the most important life lessons that I still use today. In my late thirties, they’re part of what has fortified me through life changes and challenges. If I had a choice, I might not have picked those experiences, but I’ve come to see some of those early adversities as helpful lessons—and maybe you will too.

1. You can offer yourself more support than you realize. 

In the time leading up to my divorce in my twenties, I was heartbroken. My marriage was completely different than that of my parents, but as we withdrew from each other I experienced the same overwhelming tide of change that I had when we moved into the shelters. 

As my adult reality shifted—separating everything I owned, finding a place to live, worrying if I could sign a lease/get through a rainy Sunday/make life decisions by myself—I needed to find a sense of solace. So that’s when I turned to the coping skill that’s always served me: turning inward. 

As a kid, I figured out that there isn’t always a steady force to rely on. And when you need it, the most dependable source of support can be yourself. I realized that I could make myself feel better, even in small moments. When I saw my mum cry or left my dad after our sporadic visits, I could just breathe and tell myself, “I’ve got me.” Sometimes I’d look in the mirror and think, Yes, I am a person too. I am a person who can help me. I’m the person who never leaves my side. 

Today it reminds me of the Derek Wolcott poem Love After Love, “Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart,” Wolcott writes. We so readily give all of our love and sense of security away. We can feel desperate to receive love from others. But there in the mirror lies the most consistent source of love of all.

Whenever I feel scared, this truth comforts me. When so much is going on, the inner you is always right there. Look at your own eyes in the mirror.

2. Envy can be a roadmap. 

Growing up, the fact that money gives you options became obvious to me the hard way. We relied on the generosity of others for furniture, clothes, toys, and rides. I can’t tell you how many adult conversations I eavesdropped on in shelter kitchens that had (a lack of) money at their core. I was inspired by the women surrounding me in the shelters, applying for government housing and figuring out their next moves on their own. They were survivors. I also understood that their lives would be easier if they had more money.

We were all at the mercy of waitlist housing and the availability of kind adults (“shelter friends”) to help us move. I noticed that my friends at school didn’t have these troubles. And I envied their homes whenever I’d visit, especially during their birthday parties. Unlike me, they were allowed to have friends over. Their home belonged to them! And they had their own bedrooms and store-bought clothes.    

I wanted to help the women I lived with, and I wanted to make my mum happy by alleviating her burdens. Leaving an unhealthy household should have made us feel free. Yet, with financial anxiety, I realized that we were still limited.

This envy ignited serious financial ambition within me. I loved school as a kid, which I was certain would be my salvation one day. I could be a smart kid and then a successful adult, right? I idolized the women in movies who lived in cities and big buildings like Sue in Crocodile Dundee. She was a powerful journalist in Manhattan. She had an important job and nice clothes. And a car! She had her own car. 

At 25, I moved to New York, establishing a thriving career in tech. I managed to fulfill a long-standing dream: supporting my mum financially. Today, as a life coach, the ability to provide security for myself and to give to others brings me immense joy.

3. Starting over is a win—not a failure.

When I uncovered a non-negotiable in my previous marriage, I knew in my heart it was over. I’d oscillate between berating my ex and berating myself for not knowing better. I felt desperate and found a therapist who said it was no surprise that I had ended up with similar chaos in my life as an adult that felt familiar to me as a kid. The fighting! The control issues! The exhausting highs and lows!

My therapist reminded me of an important lesson that I was lucky enough to learn as a kid and again in my early twenties: When something doesn’t work, it’s not a failure. Failing is remaining stuck when you don’t have to. 

He gave me faith that I’d do well on my own—I could start over just as my mum, my sister, and I had done decades ago. Finally, I felt an odd, quiet sense of peace knowing I could make a change.

Immediately after my separation, the things I valued in a relationship changed. I sought out mature, calm, responsible qualities in partners, with honesty and integrity at the top of my must-have list. With my own evolving maturity, I found my anchor not long after. Now, 13 years into a marriage with a wonderful, supportive partner, I’m reminded of the power we have to create different endings.

4. Books can change your perspective (and maybe your life).

During the first 11 years of my life, one of the most reliable sources of emotional relief was the local library. My mum and I loved Aesop’s Fables and books of inspirational quotes (the 1990s version of motivational social media posts). 

We also received books donated from churches and found discounted books at thrift stores. One day we bought an old copy of Apples of Gold by Jo Petty, and it became my most prized possession. I would underline my favorite quotes and draw hearts around them: “The night is not forever” and “The past cannot be changed; the future is still in your power.” They spoke to me because they just felt true. I internalized them. The night is temporary, just like awful fights are. The past is over, and we always have some say in what happens today (even something small like going for a nice walk if the sun is out). 

I joke that reading Apples of Gold gave me my unofficial start as a life coach. When new kids who arrived at the shelter were having a hard time, the mums would say, “Bring Susie! Susie will help!” And I’d show them the games all of the kids got to share. I’d emphasize that in this “big house” there’s always someone to play with. It was just like having extra brothers and sisters. Without those books that shifted my perspective, I don’t know that I would have been able to help them find glimmers in the life we were living.

I’m forever grateful to the kind families that we lived amongst and the social workers who would visit us, especially those who were demonstrably caring. But I found the most strength in reading. You don’t need anybody else for it. A book is the most reliable presence on earth. Their moods don’t change, they’re never busy, and sometimes they know what you need before you do. 

Even now, when I feel low, I flip open a self-help book at random (largely Byron Katie, Abraham Hicks, or the late Wayne Dyer) and read a few (now grossly highlighted!) pages. Ten minutes of focused reading is more powerful than you might think. And that’s probably why I went on to write my own self-help books. 

5. Asking for help is always worth it.

When a teacher noticed I was withdrawn and sitting alone one day, she invited me to sit with her. It was so pleasant, being with a calm adult who asked me non-invasive questions and listened to my answers. I asked her two or three times after that if I could join her again, and she always lovingly obliged. We’d just sit together, talking about nothing in particular. It was one of the first times I ever communicated my needs. And I learned quickly that when you seek out support people often do care and want to help. So it’s always worth asking.

I’ve continued seeking support as an adult, working with different therapists, coaches, and of course, leaning on non-judgemental friends (the only kind I have, honestly). I consider the ability to find that assistance such a huge strength. Why suffer if we don’t have to? There’s no medal for toughing it out or solving a problem on your own. In my opinion, the quicker you prioritize care, the quicker the recovery. 

There’s never been an easier time to seek help with online support groups, websites, and hotlines. Every time we have the courage to reach out to someone, whoever they are, it is a testament to our shared humanity. In doing so I also believe we help release the shame for others. It becomes its own beautiful cycle. 

In my business and relationships, I try to pay that forward. A couple of years ago, a friend in London told me her husband was physically abusive but that she hoped it was “going to get better.” I could tell in her voice that she was ashamed to tell me. 

I was flooded with emotion. I was enraged at her husband for hurting her, I was upset with my friend for not leaving, and I was pissed at the world for enabling pain like this to exist. At a loss for how to help, I called my mum. She said, “Tell her to report him to the police and go to a shelter immediately. Domestic violence is a crime. People will help!” Her words, juxtaposed with my friend’s evident shame, made me cry. But if my past taught me anything, it’s that there is hope and help if you’re willing to look for it. 

The post 5 Life Lessons I Took Away From Growing Up in Domestic Violence Shelters appeared first on Wondermind.