About

I had a wonderful childhood. Like many people, my childhood lives in a rosy glow of nostalgia. Unfortunately, that nostalgic childhood was also filled with chaos, dysfunction and traumatizing events, though I was able to find beauty and joy in it, and when I couldn’t, I could always escape into my imagination. Funny how we can live through just about anything and not notice at the time. If you’re interested in learning more about my personal story, you can find it below.

 

In the face of everything being, in fact, quite difficult, being good became my safety net. Succeeding was my insurance policy. Being perfect was my guarantee for being loved, or at least finally worthy of love.

 

For the record, I see this now. I didn’t see it then. I saw nothing but room to improve and be better than I was. I saw nothing but my not-enoughness, which made me push myself all the harder.

 

Sometimes, people forget they had dreams and then they forget that they’ve forgotten, falling into the lull of numb contentment, which can be a mercifully comfortable way to exist.

 

Me, though? I wasn’t content, I didn’t feel numb and I certainly wasn’t comfortable. I felt empty, dissatisfied and almost desperate for things to be different. I was always looking for something better than what I currently had. I was resentful that this world, this life, was letting me down. Adventure and magic had abandoned me.

 

Most of all, I’d been so hell-bent on getting “there” and fixing myself that I didn’t realize that, in the process, I was crushing my soul with all of my impossible expectations, perfectionism and self loathing. 

 

Everything about me was a project. I was something I could improve, and should. I was a problem I needed to resolve and for more than four decades, I relentless chased the solution of trying to make myself better than I was.

 

I thought I wanted success. Enough money. A great job that also looked great (so people would know I was good enough). No matter how well I did, I had the same inner experience of “this is not enough for me”, leaving me constantly looking for something better.

 

I was  trying so hard to get “there” because then, finally, I was sure I’d be happy and content and worthy of the love I didn’t think I deserved. “Better” was the only path to being good enough to be worthy of the love and belonging for which I so desperately yearned, although I had no idea that love and belonging were the things I was chasing.

 

This is what had been driving me all along, even though I couldn’t see it. A deep yearning for unconditional love that was only available from others and definitely had to be earned by improving upon the version of me I was. It’s so clear in hindsight, but I was blind to the irony of my pursuit.

 

Like a greyhound running after a fake rabbit, I ground myself to pieces just to get something that didn’t really exist. Unconditional love is not a destination or a trophy and it doesn’t come from outside ourselves. Well, I mean, it certainly can, but it won’t matter how much love is poured upon a person if they believe they’re unworthy of receiving it. The way I was chasing it was ensuring I would never catch up to it.

 

Slowly, I’ve learned that self loathing is not a personal development strategy. I cannot hate myself into a version of myself I can love.

 

I’ve slowly learned that not only am I worthy of love, as I am—no conditions necessary—but that the key to being able to receive the love and belonging my soul desires is my ability to love and appreciate myself, as I am—no improvements necessary.

 

I’m still just as driven as I always was, but now I’m driven by my desire, joy, curiosity and love. Self acceptance has turned out to be a much more sustainable fuel than trying to squeeze myself into a version of myself I thought was acceptable. For the record, it was always easier to gain other people’s acceptance than it was to gain my own.

 

These days, when I want to do something, I let my desire fuel the journey. I don’t play the “results-at-all-costs” game; I am as clear on the experience of life I want to be having as I am on my desired results. I’m still driven, but I let myself enjoy the ride, rather than fixating on the destination at the expense of missing all the scenery.

 

I’m still learning and practicing. My story is still unfolding. And, for over a decade, I’ve helped driven, resilient people just like me to unfold their own stories, not only creating a beautiful life, but more importantly, developing the ability to enjoy it.