When Life Meets The Fairy Tale


At this time of the year there are so many expectations. It’s as if we’ve bought into a collective fairy tale, and it goes something like this:

It’s Christmas morning. A large, happy, healthy, attractive, educated, polite, loving family gathers in tasteful bathrobes and slippers under a tastefully decorated tree in a tastefully decorated, expansive home. Beautiful little children are appropriately excited, and the well-behaved, well-groomed dog lazes nearby. A fire crackles in the hearth.

Let’s put you in the scene, now. Your handsome, loving spouse sits with you on the couch, your head on his shoulder, his arm around you. He pulls out the most beautifully wrapped box. You open it, eyes wide. It’s perfect. You kiss passionately. Your attractive and healthy parents link arms and smile in appreciation for such a wonderful son-in-law. His equally attractive and healthy parents beam smiles in their heroic son’s direction.

And everyone lives happily ever after, having had The Perfect Christmas.

Nice story, huh? But real life often fails to match up to this fairy tale, and we feel somehow cheated, disappointed, less than, or maybe even mad.

Because real life can be messy.

Maybe this is the first Christmas you’ve had to plan, organize and shop for — because your wife will be in Baghdad this year.

Maybe this year you won’t get a gift from your spouse — because his Alzheimer’s has robbed him of the ability to think of you as anything but that nice woman who visits him every day.

Maybe this year you’ll be alone on Christmas morning, because it’s your ex-spouse’s turn to have the kids.

Maybe there won’t be a perfect present under the tree because there’s not enough money for the tree, let alone gifts.

Maybe you’ll be missing your mother, who passed away in the spring. Maybe you’re, once again, the only single person in the room on Christmas morning. Maybe you’re in the middle of chemotherapy this Christmas.

There are plenty of ways your life is different from the fairy tale, huh? No wonder so many of us are snappish, moody and melancholy.

Because our lives don’t match the fairy tale.

And that, my friends, is OK.

Because if your wife is in Baghdad this Christmas, you can still give your kids the best Christmas you know how to. And your spouse with Alzheimer’s? His gentle wonder that such a nice lady is there with him is a precious gift. And when your kids spend Christmas morning with your ex-spouse, you are telling your kids that their own relationship with their dad is important — can you be more loving than that?

In all of our real lives, there are great challenges — and great gifts. When you feel angry or depressed or unhappy that your real life doesn’t measure up to the manufactured, unreal fairy tale — take heart. Just accept your own, unique life — messy, loud, fractured, silly, disorganized, untasteful. Because it’s all yours. And it’s perfect, just the way it is.

Honestly, would you have it any other way?

So, love it because it’s yours. Love it because it’s very real. Love it because love is what Christmas is all about.

Either/Or


“I can stay in my job and have enough money, or I can do what I love and be broke.”

“I can’t be happy as long as I’m married to Clyde.”

“Since I have been a full-time parent for the last ten years, the only job I can possibly get won’t pay very much.”

All statements I have heard in the last month — that’s true.

But they’re not true statements. Sure, they feel true to the folks saying them, but they’re really either/or, black/white statements. They’re what’s called “limiting beliefs”. Either/or statements like this serve a great purpose — they keep us pretty well stuck.

Because… is it true that you have to be broke to do what you love? Hmmmn. Oprah looks like she loves what she does and she’s doing all right. Bill Gates? He seems pretty happy. Steve Jobs is passionate about what he does, and he gets all the IStuff he can use. Bono gets to be a multi-millionaire rock star AND do good while wearing cool sunglasses.

Either/or statements serve as fear-based predictors of what’s going to happen. If you go into a job interview with the mindset, “Since I’ve been a full-time parent for 10 years, I can’t ask for too much” — guess what? You won’t. Confidence in your own self-worth is reflected in that thought, and you telegraph it to everyone you meet. How much stronger to say, “Even though I’ve been out of the workforce for 10 years, I bring great skills and excellent contacts — I’m worth what they’ve budgeted for this position’s salary.”

Living in black/white, either/or land is one way to make sure you’re always right. “I can’t be happy if I’m married to Clyde” — a popular kind of statement. Saying this, you will discard any experience that might show that you could be happy, or, heaven forbid, that you actually like Clyde. You will pursue, or maybe even create, opportunities to be unhappy with Clyde. What if you turned it around and figured ways to see if you could be happy with Clyde, oh, like, let’s see: counseling, mutual hobbies, actually talking to him…

Often when we “can’t be happy” it’s not because of someone else, but because of something within ourselves. And we owe it to the Clydes of the world to work on that before laying our own dissatisfaction at their feet.

Living in the gray between black/white is the challenge, and the gift. It’s saying, “I can lose weight while eating fewer carbs.” It’s saying, “I may have to start the work I love on the side or as a volunteer, while I keep my job for the income.” It’s “I can be happy with or without Clyde — it’s up to me.”

There are “motivational speakers” out there who tout the idea “You CAN have it all.” Which is, poppets, yet another black/white statement. The beauty of living in the gray is replacing “either/or” with “and”. It’s so much more balanced to believe, “I can have some of this and some of that,” or, even more true, “I can have whatever I need.”

Contrary to popular belief, life is not all or nothing. The key to getting unstuck is getting un-attached to the either/or thoughts that immobilize us, and recognizing them for the limiting beliefs they are.

In fashion, it’s often said that this color or that color is the “new black”. In life, the key to happiness is replacing black/white with the best of both — to live in the shades of gray that are truly flattering.

The Company You Keep


My first job after college was working for a beer company. Yep, I was hired to take on the onerous duty of selling beer to college students. Such hard work! For undertaking this major, heavy-lifting responsibility, I got a company car, an expense account, tickets to major sporting events all over the Pacific Northwest and all the gimme t-shirts a girl could want.

Nice work if you can get it, believe me.

At the time, and probably even today, the beer industry was dominated by men. I can’t tell you how many times I was the only woman in the room. It was a guy business, run by guys, governed by guy rules – and I sure learned to play by guy rules.

Which meant I swore like a sailor.

Everywhere I went – every warehouse, every meeting, every bar, every grocery store – people were using swear words. They were used as adjectives. As nouns. As verbs. Even as dangling participles.

I swam in an ocean of obscenity. And I took to it like a fish to water.

Imagine my surprise when, in my next job, I let go a stream of what I considered normal, creative invective and the room fell deadly quiet. Guess what? My new colleagues didn’t swear. I felt like a fish out of water. A fish with a potty mouth.

Group dynamics certainly govern our behavior. What’s acceptable to one crowd may be completely unacceptable to another. The trick is to find a group which supports that which is best in us – rather than a group that appeals to, how shall I say it? Our baser instincts.

There’s a public service announcement on TV now which shows a stick figure lounging in a window, smoking a joint. He offers a hit to the dog. The dog declines the opportunity. The stick figure says, “I feel bad about what I’m doing. If you did it with me, I’d feel less bad.” Maybe the dog’s name is B-I-N-G-O, because that’s what I felt like saying when I saw the ad. Bingo! People who feel bad about what they are doing need me to do it, too, so they can feel less bad.

In her book Not Just Friends, Dr. Shirley Glass suggests that one of the ways to affair-proof your marriage is to associate with people who are not only friends of marriage in general, but friends of your marriage in particular. In fact, Dr. Glass’ research shows that associating with people who are in affairs, or who condone, support or encourage affairs, increases the likelihood that your marriage will end in divorce.

It’s like a new norm is invented by the company you keep. If everyone swears, then it’s normal to swear. If everyone takes office supplies home, then it’s not stealing – it’s actually OK to put that Xerox copier in your pocketbook and haul it home. If people are rewarded for swindling clients, then clients get swindled. If everyone is cheating on their spouse, then it’s not cheating, really – it’s fun, it’s cool, it’s how the game is played. It may be unethical, but it’s the norm. And when you live unethically, day in and day out, your self-esteem erodes.

That’s why finding your “tribe” of like-minded friends is vitally important to your marriage, to your workplace, to your happiness — to your sense of self.

Friends help you be your best self. They support your personal growth, are objective and appropriately affirming. I say “appropriately” because it would be perfectly fine with me if a friend were less than affirming – especially if I had wandered off on some weird track that was not really that good for me. Like if I were spending day after day in my jammies eating junk food, not bathing, muttering to myself and watching back-to-back Rachel Ray shows. Some people call that “bad”. Other people call it “March, 2004.”

Moving on.

Henri Nouwen, one of my favorite spiritual writers,defined love as making a safe place for another person to be fully themselves. My kids’ pediatrician has a framed print on his wall, “Let him be left-handed if that’s how he’s made.” Love, then, is letting someone be left-handed. Or gassy. Or opinionated. Or a Rachel Ray fan.

But being a friend also means you have the obligation to raise the impact of their negative or destructive behaviors with them.

The moment to evaluate a friendship is when, in the process of your friend fully being themselves, you find that you cannot be fully yourself. If their full expression is hurtful, dangerous or negative to you, you have every right to say something and to lovingly detach – to give them a ton of safe space to be themselves.

Alcoholics often find that they need new friends after sobriety, because many of their old friends consciously or sub-consciously promote drinking. That’s one reason why recovering alcoholics get sponsors – the sponsor is the beginning of a new social network, one which supports healthy, affirming activities, yet is lovingly supportive when the person in recovery slips back into hurtful habits. The sponsor creates a positive space for the alcoholic to be fully himself.

Toxic friendships are often based on being in a negative space together. How do you know if you’re in one? If you feel used, you’re probably being used. If you feel demeaned and belittled, then you’re not in a situation which helps you grow. If you feel you can’t be fully yourself with your friends, then you definitely haven’t found your tribe. Relationships like this are not about growth or overcoming or affirmation. Rather, these friendships serve to keep all participants down, so nothing and no one has to change. They exist so other people won’t feel so bad.

When eyes open and one person begins to grow, however, these friendships end because what they’re built on is not solid. And that’s OK. Because when you’re out of a bad situation, you have the chance to find a good one.

Look at your friendships. Do they support you? Do they affirm you? Do they reflect your values, your ethics, your best self? If they do, then congratulations.

You’ve found your tribe.

Changing Through Crisis


A woman I admire asked me to lunch last week. She’s the kind of woman you note across a room — you see her vitality, sense her kindness, adore her laughter. She’s a pip.

Shortly after the waitress took our order, my friend looked me in the eye and asked, “How did you do it?” For a minute I felt a little like O.J. Simpson and ran through the many things I could have done which require some kind of explanation, or a book contract. She went on, “Because I’m going to be following in your footsteps.”

Then I knew. See, I went through a painful, unexpected divorce a few years ago, and in an instance I could see the familiar wash of emotions — sadness, confusion, pain, grief, relief — on that dear woman’s face. “You seem to have your act together now, Michele,” she said. “How did you get to be so peaceful and happy?”

How’d I do it? In that moment, I couldn’t think of how I did it. I babbled a little bit, pushed a pickle across the plate, and focused on listening to her story intently. Later, when I gathered myself, I told her that my journey was just a series of baby steps — in the aggregate, more forward than backward — toward a new life. One thing I knew for sure: somewhere along the way I made a real commitment to feeling better, and to my own personal growth.

I changed, I told her, through the crisis of my divorce. Which is a good thing, believe me! I let go of that which no longer served me and kept or grew that which does serve me — that which allows me to be the best possible…me.

I told my friend that the same outcome could be hers, and that I’d be there to help.

I went home with a niggling feeling that I hadn’t given my friend specific tools she could use to manage her crisis. I was a little frustrated — hey, I’m a coach! I should be able to do better!

That night I picked up a book I’d just started reading — Change 101 by Bill O’Hanlon. Imagine my surprise when O’Hanlon identified three keys to turn crisis into an opportunity for growth: connection, compassion and contribution. Wow! Why couldn’t I have read it the day before?

So, my friend, here are O’Hanlon’s Three Keys to Changing in a Crisis (and the answer to your question “Michele, how did you do it?”):

Does the crisis allow you deeper connections with yourself, with others, or with deeper meaning? In my case, the answer was (d) all of the above. Today I am more myself than at any other time in my life. I have deeper connections with friends and family, and have even made new friends since my divorce (which is not always easy to do at any age). I have learned from so many people, and listened to so many wonderful teachers. But the greatest gift is the knowledge that I am connected, in a spiritual way, to everyone and everything. This has been a deep and meaningful shift for me, and forms the very framework of my life.

Did the crisis lead you to accept yourself and others? Here’s another big shift: I now know that even the most flawed person is probably doing his very best given his situation. I hold in my mind the idea, espoused by theologian Henri Nouwen, that love is best defined as making a safe place for another person to be fully himself. OK. If I am trying to bring more love into the world (which is an intention of mine), then I have to accept you for what you are and what you bring. Not who I think you should be or what you should bring…no, it’s all about you, baby. Which, of course, frees up my time because I am no longer struggling with or against you. Creative loafing, anyone?

Can you find a way to give back because of the crisis? Feeling that you can help others who’ve been through a similar experience can be an uplifting experience. It can ease your passage through the stages of grief, and give you, again, a sense of belonging. And helping. And being a force for good in the universe. I stumbled on an amazing online divorce support group which was key to processing my experience and allowed me the opportunity to help others. I met some of the nicest, most thoughtful and generous people in the world who were either in exactly the same spot as I — or had been there. It was very comforting to not feel so alone.

Crisis is not always about divorce. It’s finding out you won’t have a job in January, which is what five of my clients recently learned. It’s illness, or death. It’s your house burning down. It’s your child in trouble. It’s your brother in trouble. It’s you in trouble.

We rightly tend to think of crisis in terms of loss, because there is usually something which has to go. With O’Hanlon’s rubric — making sure we make connections, have compassion and find a way to contribute — we can use crisis to change. We turn the tables on scary old crisis and use it (ruthlessly and with no regard for its feelings) to effect positive, lasting and marked change in our lives.

Feeling Unlovable and Unworthy


What I’m about to write is not about me. It’s about you. And you. And you. And the several women I spoke to last week. It’s about everyone who’s ever been through a breakup. It’s about all of us.

When a person feels as though they are unlovable and not worthy of being cared for, they will engineer situations where that attitude is reinforced.

It may not be conscious. It may be sub-conscious. But they will go to lengths to reinforce their internal framework, best summarized as: I am a loser.

These folks will sabotage, will double-deal, will manipulate. Whatever it takes to reinforce their fundamental, underlying belief — I am no good.

They will also tell you whatever you want to hear — just so you pay them some attention, and, perhaps, remind them what a loser they truly are. It’s extremely potent when your healing begins — and they look at you getting stronger. Your strength completely reinforces their underlying belief: “what a loser I am because I can’t do what she’s doing!” Your dawning strength is a threat — and not a motivator for them to step up to the plate and begin their own healing. Oh, it’s so much easier to pretend everything is absolutely hunky-dory than to develop insight into your own behavior and motivations!

After a divorce is an especially vulnerable time for folks, especially when one partner is crushed and the other is the crusher. The crusher may do something like say, “I’m not sure I’ve done the right thing” after he’s married his lover; or, she might pour out her heart after breaking up with her affair partner. Later, you find out the lover is pregnant, or the much touted break up never happened.

It was a lie designed to create connection between crusher and crushed.

Yes, it’s duplicity. Yes, it’s hurtful. And, yes, it happens.

My theory is this: the crusher gets something from his/her relationship with the crushed person. Perhaps the relationship reminds him/her that he is no good. Perhaps watching the crushed one heal is too much. Perhaps the crushed one will grow up and away from the crusher — that can’t happen! Who will remind him/her that he’s a jerk? A loser? A worthless human specimen?

Because, guess what? He is desperately trying to convince his current partner that he’s flawless. Wonderful. Hunky-dory.

So the crusher keeps the crushed one “on a string”, saying just enough to keep him/her involved. Giving just enough clues to keep hope alive, even if the crushed one knows deep down that she’s better off without the crusher in her life.

It’s a tantalizing game of cat and mouse, in which the feelings and needs of the crushed one are of no moment. It’s, once again, all about the crusher.

Crushed people can find themselves in an unenviable position of being the third wheel in the new relationship between the crusher and the lover. Often, the new relationship is balanced by the mere presence of the former spouse. “If it weren’t for (fill in the ex-spouse’s name), everything would be perfect!” This fiction allows the new couple to defer addressing all the issues in their own relationship by focusing on the Evil Former Spouse. It’s more hunky-dory.

If I had a dollar for every new partner who conspiratorially said to me, “Well, you know, her former husband was gay/impotent/an alcoholic/abusive” or “His ex-wife just gave up on sex/is a gold digger/is overprotective of the kids/is lazy and doesn’t want to work”, I would be a wealthy woman living a life of ease. [On an island in the Pacific. With a pina colada in one hand. Laying in a hammock. Swaying in the breeze...Oh -- am I off on a tangent? Pardon me. It's that time of year.]

Carl Jung famously posited that we each have a light and a dark, or “shadow”, side. The shadow is that part of our Self which makes us feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. When a relationship starts as an affair, often the “shadow” of society’s opinion of infidelity is too much for the new couple to bear. So, they ignore it and find plenty of stuff to lay at the feet of the former partner. Which allows the new couple to mosey along, burdenless. Hunky-dory.

Or so they think. Remember: what you resist, persists.

Sometimes crushed people hold out hope against hope that the crusher will “wake up” and come back. Honey, if their fundamental belief remains “I am a worthless loser”, coming back will be no relief to anyone.

In the last week, I’ve had several clients who have allowed themselves to be hurt by staying engaged with their crusher. It’s heartbreaking. And it’s very, very human.

Thinking about how it feels to be manipulated may help crushed people become more resolute. No more studying tea leaves to figure out what’s really going on. No more surmises about his intentions. No more Nancy Drew (or Frank and Joe Hardy). When someone who finds him/herself fundamentally worthless tells you they love someone else — regardless of what comes after that part of a sentence — move on. Take anything else they say with a grain of salt. Or maybe a shaker of salt.