I’ve always been a person who feels things very deeply. Sensitive is one word for it — if a very general one.
Sensitive is one of those words that’s great since it’s top of mind and most people have heard it before. Have some kind of personal definition as to what it means. » Read more
Life might be a great deal simpler if I were one of those people who feel like I’m owed good things. If I were a person who thinks I’m special by default and therefore should be granted kindness, comfort, and care.
But I’m not. And instead, I find it all too easy to feel guilty when good things happen to me. » Read more
I’m sitting in a pew, attending mass at the church I attended growing up.
It’s been 7 years since I went to a service here, on another visit to my hometown, but surprisingly little has changed since then.
Actually, surprisingly little has changed from 30 years ago, when I was a small child doing my best to remain quiet and tolerate the unending boredom, » Read more
“What you do,” he said, “is just lie there with your thoughts. Don’t judge them. Just let them happen. Let yourself feel everything you’re feeling. Think everything you’re thinking. Without distraction.”
He didn’t call it mindfulness then. I wouldn’t learn that word until much later. From someone else.
Instead, my first fraught dance with my own mind wouldn’t have a name. » Read more
I look at my phone. Sigh involuntarily. Because it’s one of those series of texts.
I miss you, she says. Everyone else bores me.
She proceeds to insult or tear down every other person in her life, pointing out what she perceives to be their flaws. » Read more
As I’ve written many times, I’m a recovering people pleaser.
On confident days, I find myself venturing the idea that I am a recovered people pleaser. But then I decide that’s how they get you. You get complacent and assume you are forever changed, and then you’re slipping back into the old ways. » Read more
I grew up in a strict authoritarian household where I had very little freedom. It was a house in which you had to ask permission to have a glass of water — because after all, someone had to wash it later.
A promise to be the person who washed the glass wasn’t good enough. » Read more
“I bet there’s good stuff to eat there,” the voice on the phone says.
I sigh. “Yeah, a ton of restaurants.” Because it’s true. Just like I was amazed by the wide array of offerings available to me when I moved from Central Maine to Cleveland, it’d be hard to not notice how many more restaurants there are in Dallas-Fort Worth, » Read more
There are four children in my family. I have two older sisters and a younger brother, making me the third of four kids in the birth order. And quite importantly in an old school Catholic family that exalts sons above daughters and considers sons more capable and skilled, I’m the youngest girl in my family. » Read more
“You wouldn’t leave someone with cancer,” he said.
She blinked, not quite sure she was hearing what she was hearing. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’re breaking up with me because I have depression,” he said. “That’s wrong. Not only is it wrong, it’s cruel. I never thought you were someone who would do something like that. » Read more