One of my true loves in life is researching the spiritual and emotional causes of seemingly unrelated physical symptoms.
I have a weird hive thing going on on my face. I deduced that it was stress-related (when it happened in the complete absence of food consumption or beauty product useage). I didn’t have any real reason for it, and it just popped up seemingly randomly.
But the last couple months it has been persistent. Omnipresent. And annoying AF. So as I was researching, one of the things I came across is that face issues present as a result of not accepting yourself or not liking what you show the world.
I decided to try and see if I could publicly share the things that brought me shame. I know that bringing shame to the light is the quickest way to kill it.
So here is shame point number one.
I always wanted to marry rich. I wanted to marry rich so I would not have to work hard. Here’s the situation. For as long as I have memories, I have hated hard work. Human Design says I hate work on the wrong things…which I suppose is true. There are things I have truly loved working hard on. But I knew from a young (like teenage young) age that I wanted a rich husband so I could pick what I worked hard on.
When I went on my first date with Ryan, he said the word “Vice President” like 700 times.
I was meeting with a bank vice president and…
When I was chatting with the vice president of thingamajig department…
My boss, the vice president of whatchamijiggies….
We had chemistry. He was fabulous and funny.
All those mentions of vice presidents let me know that he was important….at an important bank. I envisioned my life as Eva Longoria in Desperate Housewives.
Eventually we got married and here’s what happened.
I started realizing that the women who got the praise were women who WERE vice presidents of thingamijiggies, not women who married them.
So I pushed. I created opportunities. I was a success. I did what got praise and recognition.
I abandoned that thing I wanted as stupid. I started declaring that I was a CEO and not a mom and wife.
It was exhausting. Part of why I know the exhaustion of settling for that which is not meant for you is that I have been there.
One day I called my upwardly mobile, successful husband crying from the corporate wellness job I had created for myself crying.
“I cannot do this anymore. We are having kids. Because if we have kids, I will get 3 months off from this hell I have created.”
So babies we had. I quit working to be a mom.
My kids go to school now. They are in day care so I can write blog posts. I am basically living the life I always dreamed of. I am also exceptional at manifesting money through Ryan. Like I actually declared his salary before we moved to California.
But I am deeply ashamed of how I live. I keep launching things and scrambling to make money so I can prove that I am a hard-working success.
Very infrequently do I sit here in my beautiful, well-lit California house and be grateful that I manifested the life of my dreams. I forget to consider all that I have manifested a success.
I feel ashamed….like some kind of lazy fraud.
I don't meet the widely accepted 2019 standard of a successful woman.
But in the way that I would coach clients, I am a success in the truest sense of the word, I had a vision. I live a vision.
Here’s the thing about life. You do truly get to define what you consider success. You also have to be in touch with your desires to not be ashamed if your success does not match the definition of success that is widely accepted.
If you are ashamed of your unique successes, it keeps you from moving forward into more successes.
So I’m Sarah. I successfully married rich. I am no longer ashamed of that. I am ready to reclaim the rest of my vision and dreams for my life.
If you are feeling stuck and like you can't move forward into what you envision for your life? Look at where you might be feeling shame around what you have or what you do. Shame serves no purpose but to keep you stuck where you are.
Last night I couldn't sleep. I was tired. I needed sleep. Badly. But here I was, still awake at 3 a.m. in a tornado of body hatred. Why won't you sleep, body? Do you hate me, body? Do you not know how badly we need sleep, body?
So as one would expect at 3 a.m., I wrote my body a nasty-gram. Like a really mean letter. Ryan found it this morning. Like a coach's husband, he said "honey, I want you to do what you would tell a client to do. Write the exact opposite of this letter to yourself. Then read it. A lot.
I actually love the revised letter. Not quite as much as I love my husband for telling me to do it. Read on to see how I transformed a moment of true self loathing into exactly what my body needed to hear:
You are the most brilliant magnificent work created by God. You deserve to be loved and lavished with all the good things. You deserve deep nourishing sleep.
I know you are doing your best, body, and that sleeplessness and excess belly fat are a message from you. Those bags under my eyes and extra weight do not diminish my beauty. They are a sign that I am a human who sometimes ignores the messages her body sends.
You are worthy, powerful and deserving of all the love and support that you need to thrive. In addition to all the healthy food and habits, I acknowledge that sometimes, body you just need a good, sweet perfect brownie. I will not deprive you of this if that is what you truly ask for. I declare, right now, dear body that I will stop caring for you in the way that society tells me is best and I will take care of you in the ways that you show me you need. I am done, body.
I am done ignoring you in favor of what the current and fleeting wisdom on health tells me. I am ready to listen to your message. If that message must come to me at 1 a.m., I will listen and act accordingly. Thank you, body. Thank you for continuing to communicate with me even when I plug my ears and hum at you while you do it.
Do you believe your words have the potential to impact your finances?
Let me tell you a story. When we first moved to California, we set up our life to have the exact same things we had in Minnesota. Kids in private preschool, house, same pets, new car, same eating out budget.
The cost of living in California and Minnesota is not the same. Not even actually close. So we felt broke. Probably at least once a day we would say “we can’t afford it.” Or we are so broke. This went on for a year. Until the fateful day we got the year end statement from our kids preschool. The statement said we spent $30K on preschool in 2016. A light bulb went on. Holy shit, we’re not broke, we’re heavily leveraged in the Spanish preschool industry.
I made a resolution to never say “I can’t afford it again.” As I stopped saying “can’t afford it” and “broke” something weird happened. I stopped being broke. 2017 was the year that we started giving 10% to our church. It was the year that we started affording things that were written in my goals…trips, new beds, business courses and still fancy preschool.
I had known the power of words for a long time, but never really thought about their power to actually change finances.
Everything that comes out of your mouth is a little prayer to God. So if you are trying to get your money to get you more of what you want, saying “I can’t afford it.” Or “we’re broke” is like a little prayer to stay in your current financial reality.
Practice using your words to create the financial that you really want. If you want to continue to be able to not afford the life you desire, for sure keep saying “I can’t afford it.” If you’re ready for a new reality, here are some new words to create a new reality.
10 things to say in place of “I can’t afford it”
Educating our kids is important to me. Honestly, so is alone time. I am an unbelievably introverted human who needs a lot of alone time to maintain life as a me. This investment seems astronomical to lots of people, but it is still worth it to me.
This is what we’re doing in Buh-Bye Broke. We’re setting priorities. We’re making our money deliberately match our desires. We’re learning how to use better language, budgeting tools and being honest about what we want to create a reality that we actually want to live in. If you’re ready for more luscious living and less broke, you can still enroll at the presale price of $197. We start January 11, just in time to make good on your New Year’s Resolution.
There's a narrative that happens whenever the topic of mental health comes up. Check in on your loved ones. Make sure they know you care. I'm here to drop a truth bomb on you.
I don't fucking need you to check in on me.
I don't need one bit of the lip service that comes with a perfunctory text or FB message saying "I hope you are well." I just don't. Those are actually insulting because mental illness does not arise from a crisis of me not being aware that people care if I'm alive or not. I am actually very well aware that many people care enough to text me when I post something worrisome on Facebook or when they haven't seen me at the gym for a while. I'm grateful-ish for this level of caring in my life.
But here's the truth. When I dig into virtually every bout of depression I have suffered through, it boils down to this...I don't have a community. I don't have a community because the world of adult friend making sucks. I'm pretty convinced that's why moms put their kids in so many sports. Because in the absence of sports and activity, there is just no good way to make friends as a grown up.
I have tried to schedule play dates, only to be given the "we're busy for the next 10 months. How does next July sound." Next July sounds shitty. I suppose I could put my kids in a bunch of stuff. But they truly are not interested. Soccer? Hard no. Cheerleading? Nope. Robotics? You guessed it. And since my husband and my kids are currently my ride or die group, I wish not to offend them (and waste my energy) dragging them to activities they don't like in the hope I'll friend another mom.
I cannot figure out how to break the barrier of moms that stands between me and a group of ride or die friends. I held off on writing this because I thought "maybe you're just alone in this." But I see comments all day every day about how alone moms feel. I see and experience first hand how hard it is to build a community. And let me be honest with you. I have no interest in being part of a community of check ins.
Friends, I don't know the answer. But I know this, mental illness is an epidemic in this country. People are suffering in mass from lack of real connection. People are crying out for ride or die friends. While this is happening, we just keep busying ourselves. We are exhausted from working in jobs we may or may not like and living in places that may or may not suit our needs. We are tired from keeping up super mom masks. Tired from bringing our kids to all their sports and events. All this exhaustion means that we have no mental capacity left for building community. And what American needs to fix what ails us is community. In order to form community, we need time to find our people.
So if you are planning to check in with me and have said no to 10 invitations for real connection? Save your 2 minutes. I don't need a check in. I need a community. We need a community. I share my suffering loudly because so many of us suffer really quietly. I have spent actual decades summoning up all my courage to ask people to make plans with me and I am tired and frustrated. I'm likable so people are usually like "yeah...someday." Someday almost never arrives. And because I always wanted to stay likable, I never say what really goes on in my head.
Not knowing why people say no to me is soul crushing. Asking people to hang out only to have them last minute cancel is heart breaking. Offering to fly my people out to see me and having them refuse over and over again wreaks a havoc on my heart that those people will never know (until they read this, then I guess they'll know). I have been praying for a couple days now. Dear God, what is in me that needs to be spoken. Dear God, why am I so tired no matter how I sleep? This is the answer to my tired. I'm tired of trying to build a community. And I'm tired of pretending I'm not hurt by how poorly it's going.
I want to give voice to people who struggle silently and alone, hoping a community will come through for them. I feel you. I am you. I hurt alongside you.
Last year I fell in love again. It was with a man who wasn’t my husband. Let me be really clear here. I love my husband. We are happy. We have sex. We go on dates. We had no indication of being dissatisfied with our relationship.
Given all this love, the last thing I ever expected was to fall in love with someone who wasn’t my husband.
The first time I met the man who I would later fall in love with, I knew that there was something…some kind of weird unexplainable connection. I didn’t love him when I hired him as my personal trainer. Actually in the earliest days, I didn’t even like him. I wanted to fire him, but was scared of hurting his feelings. So I didn’t. Everything works out for our good.
My husband first picked up on my feelings. I didn’t even know something was happening until dinner at a little Italian restaurant. It was a date where we may have spent the entire dinner discussing my personal trainer. Knowing me, as he does, my husband asked: “Do you have feelings for your personal trainer.”
Initially we called this an emotional affair. I was much more invested in the feelings of this human than I had ever been in any other person. It was unknown territory. I had never looked at real life humans as potential partners since the day I met my husband. We had an agreement about Bret Michaels, but other than that, other men were simply passersby in my life.
So we talked, Ryan and I. I continued to meet with this other man a couple times a week to work out. Ryan and I made an agreement. I would be open about my feelings (to Ryan) and we would see what happened. In this agreement, I had full freedom to explore dating, sex and emotional attachment to someone else.
Friends, I want to pause the story here to tell you, that I am unbelievably lucky. My husband did not flip out. He did not stomp around, threaten divorce or even (as I think would be customary) demand that I get a new personal trainer. He simply allowed it to progress.
The relationship with the other guy never progressed. We remained friends for a while after the end of our personal training relationship. I never told him how I felt. And I never acted. It just never felt like the right time. Part of that was fear of ruining both relationships. Part of that was fear of getting my heart broken.
It was an uncommon path that Ryan and I took. I’m so glad we did. I confided in a couple of people about my feelings and the general consensus was that I should run far far away from this other man. That I should protect my marriage at all costs.
I didn’t. I’m defiant like that. I am writing this story because not only did falling in love with someone else not destroy my marriage, it deepened our connection. It deepened my connection to my sexuality and sensuality. I brought all of this home to my husband.
The cultural dialogue around marriage is that we should shut down any feelings and desires that are not socially normal. Often desires that are not for our partners are viewed as sinful or wrong…even by people who are not religious.
So many partners shut down emotionally when their partner has desires that feel threatening to them. And I want to share a story of trust, love and openness. I share these lessons in the hope that people will stop shutting down their desires and those of their partners and embrace what is truly human…to feel, to connect and to explore.
So what happened?