“Your new life is going to cost you your old one. It’s going to cost you your comfort zone and your sense of direction. It’s going to cost you relationships and friends. It’s going to cost you being liked and understood. It doesn’t matter. The people who are meant for you are going to meet you on the other side. You’re going to build a new comfort zone around the things that actually move you forward. Instead of being liked, you’re going to be loved. Instead of being understood, you’re going to be seen. All you’re going to lose is what was built for a person you no longer are.” ~Brianna Wiest

Over a transformative two-year period, marked by deep inner work and self-discovery, I stumbled upon a series of steps that helped me find a fulfilling partnership—steps that go far beyond attachment theory.

My life essentially followed the cycle of the phoenix: First, it went up in spectacular flames before emerging more aligned than ever. I had to step into total darkness before seismic shifts brought me back to lightness.

I hope that my story helps you navigate your own journey on the quest for love and a long-term partner. This journey is highly personal for everyone, so while this blueprint might not be the exact match for you, I hope it points you in the right direction.

Before we dive in, I’d like to explain what attachment theory is and why I never found it helpful for me personally.

What Is Attachment Theory?

Attachment theory, developed by psychologists John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth, explores how our early relationships with caregivers shape our behavior in adult relationships.

According to attachment theory, there are three primary attachment styles:

• Secure Attachment: Comfortable with intimacy and independence, secure types can express their needs openly without fear of rejection.
• Anxious Attachment: Anxious types crave closeness and fear abandonment, often seeking constant reassurance and becoming hyper-vigilant to signs of disconnection.
• Avoidant Attachment: Avoidant types prioritize independence and may distance themselves emotionally, feeling suffocated by intimacy.

Attachment theory is often used to explain why certain people seem drawn to the same relationship patterns, particularly the classic anxious-avoidant dynamic. Anxious types seek reassurance, which pushes avoidant types to withdraw, reinforcing each other’s deepest fears.

But here’s the catch: While understanding your attachment style can help you make sense of your relationship patterns, it may not offer the practical solutions you need, especially in the long term.

While it was helpful learning that I was an anxious attachment type, even five years in therapy was not enough to encourage me to choose someone secure. Ultimately, while attachment theory offered clarity on why I repeated certain patterns, it wasn’t the key to finding the fulfilling relationship I craved.

Things finally began to shift when I let go of the life that no longer fit. Each unexpected event was like a domino, toppling the old version of myself to make room for something new. Interestingly, it all started with a journal.

How Writing Reveals What You Really Want

Most of us know we should get clear about what we want in a partner, but how many of us have actually written it down? I certainly hadn’t.

That changed when, on a complete whim, I picked up a workbook called Single Is Your Superpower. It struck me as cheesy, but there’s something about using pen and paper that taps into deeper, subconscious thoughts—far more effectively than just thinking things over in your head.

Flipping to a random page, I came across a prompt asking me to write down the top five qualities I wanted in a mate. At first, I rolled my eyes. It seemed too simple to be “deep” and transformative, but I did it anyway.

I thought I already knew what I was looking for: humor, spirituality, shared values, ambition. But what surprised me was the number one quality that surfaced: emotional availability.

That insight was a game changer. I realized my previous focus on finding someone ambitious had been attracting people with demanding careers—partners who often leaned toward avoidant.

That’s not to say you need to avoid ambition in a partner. Far from it! What matters is getting clear on the qualities that truly matter to you so you can see beyond surface traits. I began to ask myself different questions:

Are they ambitious but still present?

Do they carve out time for things they enjoy?

Or do they use ambition as an excuse to stay emotionally distant?

These questions became the new lenses through which I viewed potential partners.

That’s when things shifted. With this clarity, I started attracting emotionally available people, and for the first time ever, I wasn’t fighting with my partners. I wasn’t caught in the anxious-avoidant tug-of-war.

And it all started with pen and paper. So even if you think you know what you want in a partner, I challenge you to get out a piece of paper and write it down. Find some powerful journal prompts and let your desires unfold in ways that just might surprise you.

Don’t Let Other People Judge or Belittle Your Desire for Love

As my dating life began to shift for the better—less conflict, more meaningful connections—I still hadn’t found someone that I wanted to commit to long-term.

By the time I hit thirty, the pressure around my biological “window” to start a family became more tangible. Sharing this with two close friends, however, often left me feeling unsupported. Comments like “You have plenty of time” or “Why are you so afraid of being alone?” dismissed the real emotions I was grappling with.

The truth was, I wasn’t afraid of being alone. Sure, loneliness can be uncomfortable, but I had already done the inner work to address those feelings. My desire for a partner came from a much deeper place—a calling to build a family, to share my life with someone who shared that vision.

What I realized is this: When you’re being vulnerable and communicating your true desires, and you still feel the need to defend yourself, you’re not in the right environment.

It’s vital to surround yourself with people who not only respect your journey but understand that your longing for love is a strength, not a weakness. Trust yourself, trust your desires, and never let others make you question your path, especially when it aligns with your core values.

This shift in perspective laid the groundwork for me to make some difficult but necessary decisions later on. It taught me that we need to be selective about the voices we allow to influence our most vulnerable desires.

Pursue Any Type of Self-Discovery Work That Calls to Your Soul

A year prior to these struggles, I participated in a robust coaching program centered around identifying my core values, mission, and life purpose. I never expected to articulate what became one of my more important, guiding core values: being supportive of others and feeling supported by others.

The truth was, I no longer felt supported in those friendships I mentioned before.

While this was happening, I was also considering a career pivot. I consulted with an astrologist to see if my birth chart had any implications for my career. On this adventure, another unexpected steppingstone emerged.

My astrologist told me that I was well-suited for a career in leadership. She also could not help but divulge, “You also have a very strong calling toward motherhood, and you will find a unique way to balance work and family.” Woah.

I found this enormously validating because it affirmed what I already knew to be true: I didn’t want a mate just to fill the void or because I feared being alone. Rather, I was feeling pulled by a deep calling: to start a family.

On one level, this was merely an affirmation of what I already knew to be true, but when we’re on a journey of self-discovery that’s peppered with occasional self-doubt, supportive modalities can be enormously helpful.

For me, it was values-centered coaching and astrology. For you, it might be therapy, tarot, journaling, or some other form of self-discovery. Follow your intuition and lead with curiosity.

Start with Subtraction, Not Addition, to Manifest the Right Partner

As my two close friends increasingly filled my life with judgment and subtle criticism, I began doubting myself around them. Our paths and values were diverging (or was I simply gaining clarity on what was already happening?) making our interactions more draining than enriching.

Despite my distaste for loneliness and the fact that I don’t have many close friends to begin with, I knew it was time to make a hard choice. With intentions of honoring my values and boundaries, I decided to distance myself, intentionally creating a significant void in my life.

This void was both authentic and, at times, filled with panic. During low moments, I’d catch myself thinking, “What have I done?!”

However, in moments of true alignment, I knew letting go was the right decision. This newfound space in my life led me to ponder, “Who do I know that emanates positive energy? Who do I want to surround myself with?”

The first person that popped into my head was a colleague that I had worked with remotely for a little over seven years. He lived in Canada while I lived in California, so I sent him an email asking if he wanted to hang out virtually. He enthusiastically obliged, and we became fast friends.

Then, one day, he hopped on a plane to California, and we became best friends. Little did we know, that was the beginning of forever—because now we’re married.

While I didn’t know it at the time, manifestation often starts with subtraction. It’s easy to assume that attracting the right mate is about addition, but manifestation is as much about creating space as it is about filling it.

Trust That Each Bold Step Is Preparing You for What’s Next

Looking back on the choices I made, I’m profoundly grateful for the voids I dared to create in my life—despite the panic they caused sometimes. Aligned decisions aren’t always easy, but by staying true to my core values, I knew I was making the right choices.

In hindsight, the path seems almost simple: Get clear on your desires (with pen and paper!), cut away what no longer fits, and trust that your life will unfold with each intentional step. But while you’re living it, it can feel like an endless, clumsy fumble.

The truth is, at every step of this journey, I was filled with doubt, yet I kept moving forward. And each step prepared me for the person I was becoming.

In the end, the empty spaces we create by letting go of what no longer serves us aren’t just voids—they’re opportunities for transformation. These spaces inspire us to take aligned action and build something brand new.

Remember, your new life may ask you to leave behind more than just old habits—it may cost you comfort, approval, and the familiar sense of who you used to be. But on the other side of that transformation is something far greater: relationships that truly see you, a life that deeply fulfills you, and a future that you were always meant to step into.

Follow your intuition, embrace the unknown, and allow yourself to build a new life from the ashes of the old one.

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“The solution to every problem is to be found on a level that is slightly, or even greatly, above the conflicting perceptions. As long as you are eye to eye with the difficulty, you will fight the problem rather than resolve it.” ~Glenda Green

Years ago, my city was in the middle of a heatwave. My home had no air conditioning. It was so hot indoors that I was sticking to my office chair. Even well after 11 p.m. I was still sweating away at the computer.

Then the office lamp overheated and shut off. Sudden total darkness. Did I get up, take a break, and do something else? Nope.

Did I relocate to a cooler part of the house? Nope. I wasn’t paying attention.

Then it got worse.

Several website pages I had created suddenly vanished into cyberspace. Poof! I was in the middle of a promotion that was directing people to those very sites.

My frustration level was rising fast—almost to panic levels—which of course, naturally led almost immediately to the next disaster: I locked myself out of the house.

Now it was serious.

I had gone into the garage for something and soon discovered that the door back into the house had closed and locked behind me. My hidden spare key was nowhere to be found.

Fortunately, one of the windows around back was open, so I managed to get into the house by hilariously climbing through the kitchen window like a Cirque du Soleil performance gone wrong. It was just the thing to bring me back to my senses.

It’s a rare person who, when presented with what looks like a problem, thinks, “Great, how is this amazing? How is this an opportunity?”

Albert Einstein once said that a problem cannot be solved at the same level of mind that created it. So, it’s helpful to zoom out and look at the issue from a higher and wider perspective. When we do, we can see the hidden opportunities.

When we take a step back, we often realize those less-than-awesome things were happening for us, not to us.

During my three-part problem of the heatwave, website crash, and the lockout from my house, there were the obvious lessons of “always know where your spare key is” and “go somewhere else when the office is sweltering.” The bigger opportunity, though, was to be reminded that:

There is very little in life that is worth panicking over. In fact, little is as bad as our minds would have us believe.

So what if the web pages vanished? They can be recreated. Big deal if it’s hot in the house and there’s no air conditioning. At least I have a house.

Someone once said that “life is largely a matter of paying attention.” Had I fully paid attention to the first two events—the rising temperatures and the vanishing web pages—and paused to consider what the message might be, I likely could have avoided the trip through the back window.

The truth is, opportunities are around us all the time. But we must look for them.

When I sleep through my alarm, for instance, I end up running late for appointments, and then the whole day feels off. But perhaps arriving late for an appointment is really a gentle nudge from the universe to reassess my expectations of how much I can realistically do in a day. Maybe sleeping through my alarm meant I avoided a car accident that happened during my usual drive time.

Within every problem is an opportunity, even if it might not seem that way at the time.

Recently I drove over a nail, only to discover my car needed not one but all four tires replaced. Here was another opportunity to observe my default mode when unfortunate things happen. The natural tendency is to react. “How did this happen?” “What do I do now?” “This is awful. I can’t believe it.”

For many of us (myself included), our automatic reaction to a setback is fear, worry, and frustration. Although it is important to acknowledge and validate these totally normal feelings and accept that they are there, these automatic reactions do little to find a solution and fix the problem.

We can train ourselves to meet each perceived problem with the question, “How might this be a good thing?”

After that initial moment of frustration and sticker shock at the price of the four new tires, I actively searched for the silver lining. Since I was going on a long road trip in a few weeks anyway, it made sense to have the car in top condition now.

Replacing all four tires also led to discovering a more serious problem with my car—something that would have gone unnoticed had I not driven over that small nail.

When confronted with what looks like a problem, the mind wants to jump in and run endless doomsday and what-if scenarios. One way to interrupt this tendency is to give your mind a funny name.

For example, imagine your mind as an annoying neighbor who loves to complain. The next time it starts rattling off how things are terrible, you can tell that mind, “Thanks for sharing, Buzzard.” Seeing your mind as something separate from you allows you to acknowledge its concerns and simultaneously interrupt its negative patterns.

Another way to release yourself from a downward mental spiral is to grab a slip of paper and write down how that unpleasant event or circumstance might be a good thing.

Start by sitting quietly and taking some slow, deep breaths to calm your mental Buzzard down. Once you’re in a more neutral, centered place, look for any hidden opportunities. Write down one or two potentially positive things that could come of this.

Writing them down vs. just thinking about them or typing them on your phone or computer is important, as physically writing something interrupts the conditioning and habits of the mind. Writing them down with your non-dominant hand is even better since it engages the often-underused side of your brain. It’s a great method for receiving creative insights about the perceived problem.

Our daily activities offer countless opportunities to notice how we react and to practice looking for the hidden opportunities. In fact, a few hours after I started writing this article, my computer suddenly stopped working. It was a chance to practice the very thing I was writing about: awareness and opportunity.

I noticed how my mind still wanted to frantically imagine a variety of worst-case scenarios if I weren’t able to recover all my files. When I ignored the mind and looked for the opportunity, I decided I was being forced to take a much-needed timeout from my computer. I suddenly had plenty of time to spend on other activities I had been putting aside because the computer work seemed more important and urgent.

If you have a problem in your life right now, take a step back, grab a piece of paper, and consider it with a wider and brighter lens. Get creative and brainstorm until you find at least two ways that situation might actually be a good thing. Look for the opportunity!

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“Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky, but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable.” ~Brené Brown

If the title of this post gets under your skin, don’t worry, it gets under mine, too. I have a fierce aversion to conflict. That doesn’t mean I won’t engage in it, but it does mean that I’m very open to any suggestion that might give me license to not engage in it.

So, when I learned the phrase “protect your peace,” I found myself particularly drawn to it.

The concept of protecting your peace is one of conflict avoidance. It connotes the idea that some arguments are not worth having, and some people are just not worth arguing with.

Protecting your peace, in those cases, means choosing to disengage for the sake of your sanity. You end the conversation, block their number, and go no contact.

And believe me when I say there are literally so many circumstances in which this is the correct and proper route to take. I refuse to waste my breath on someone who isn’t listening—particularly if they’re also committed to causing me pain. I have found protecting my peace in those cases to be a very effective tool that I wield generously.

That said, l do sometimes wonder if the idea of protecting my peace has become an excuse to avoid any conflict—even the kind that I probably need to address head-on. It’s just so damn seductive to think of never having to tangle with other people. If someone hurts or disrespects me, I get to protect my peace!

I can just walk away without acknowledging what they did. I can even feel good about it because I’m protecting my peace, after all.

But what lesson am I teaching myself and others when I do that? What message does it send when I allow the idea of “protecting my peace” to turn me into a doormat for other people to step on? At what point does protecting my peace become disrespecting myself?

Almost three years ago, my husband and I separated and were on the brink of divorce. Our marriage had been through too many hardships for one couple to bear, and the anger and resentment we’d built up toward each other was destroying the steady love we once shared. We weren’t sure if separating could save the marriage, but we decided to give it a try.

During the six months we were separated, we both spent a lot of time in therapy confronting the ways we were both showing up negatively in the relationship. For me, it was stuffing my feelings and exploding later instead of speaking about them when they were still manageable.

In the name of “keeping the peace” I was fostering resentment, hostility, and even fury. My refusal to communicate my needs and feelings was poisoning both me and my marriage from the inside out.

What kept me silent was a simple yet devastating truth: I believed that speaking my needs and standing up for myself when things were difficult made me a cantankerous or difficult person. Perhaps, if I’m really honest, I didn’t think anyone would want to put up with me if I came with expectations—if I insisted on being treated the way I deserve.

So, I gulped down the burning tonic of hurt and disappointment and called it “protecting my peace.” Doing otherwise would have meant stirring up “conflict,” and if I created conflict, then why would my husband (or anyone, really) want to put up with me? By avoiding conflict, I could carry on pretending like everything was fine while I built a wall of resentment, one brick at a time, between me and the person I loved most in the world.

A very hard lesson I’ve only just begun learning is that sometimes standing up for myself is the route to peace. Sometimes holding people accountable for their behavior is how I teach them and myself what I’m worth. While avoiding conflict might feel good in the short term, in the long term it can have disastrous consequences for my self-esteem.

I can attest firsthand that it already has.

Not only that; extreme conflict avoidance can also affect my social well-being. Although conflict is never pleasant, conflict resolution can be very pleasant indeed. It’s what allows me to reclaim relationships, heal wounds, and grow together with the people I love instead of apart. If I let myself become too rigid in my conflict avoidance, I only stand to alienate ourselves from others. This is a lesson that, if I hadn’t begun learning sooner, would have cost me my marriage.

I am learning, slowly but surely, how to articulate my difficult feelings. I’m finally summoning the courage to say the hard things, to speak up when I’m hurt or upset, and to clearly and kindly say what I need instead.

In doing so, I am watching my relationships begin to thrive like never before. Most importantly, both through this work and the work my husband has done in his approach to our relationship, we have saved our marriage.

It’s not always easy. In fact, sometimes speaking up creates more discomfort in the short term than stuffing things down like I used to. But for once, I am finally showing up fully and authentically.

I have stopped swallowing poison and instead have begun giving myself the healing salve of self-expression. Despite the momentary discomfort that comes with allowing conflicts to come to the surface, the long-term joy of conflict resolution and mutual understanding always wins out.

I guess, like most things, protecting our peace without avoiding healthy conflict and dialogue is about finding balance (which, I’m learning, is a skill we appear to be losing as a society). We have to learn when to protect our peace, when to stand our ground, and how to know the difference between the two. For now, I have a few questions I ask myself when deciding which path to take.

This list of questions needs further thinking and perhaps some retooling, but here’s what I’ve got so far:

1) Is this person someone I want to remain in a relationship with?

2) Do I trust this person to listen to me if I share how they made me feel?

3) Do I think there might be long-term damage to my self-esteem and self-image if I let this go unaddressed?

4) Is it safe for me to engage in this conflict?

If the answer to these questions is yes, I will summon the courage to engage in the conflict. I know that the conflict still might not be resolved, but at least I’ve done my best. If the answer to these questions is no, I am better off protecting my peace and walking away.

Maybe I’ll schedule a phone call with a trusted friend or a session with my therapist to talk through my feelings about the situation. At least then I will get some validation and empathy, which will help me keep my self-esteem intact. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but with time, I do think having a system in place will help me find a balanced approach to handling conflict.

I owe it to myself to try. And so do you, dear reader.

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“All you’re going to lose is what was built for a person you no longer are.” ~Brianna Wiest

I’ll admit it. I stayed in a failed marriage for five years past its expiration date. I got especially good at faking smiles in public and relegating myself to my laptop most evenings.

I also sentenced myself to a career that stopped “lighting me up” about a decade before I was ready to wave the white flag of surrender. As in my marriage, I refused to believe its end for ages and tried everything I could think of to keep this dying flame alive. I switched positions and teams, constantly created new goalposts for myself, changed organizations, and even moved to Asia well before I was willing to let my career go.

And one day, without warning, my sister called from New York to say that our beautiful mother had just crossed over to the other side. On that soft green couch in South Korea, thousands of miles from family, my already deeply unsatisfactory private life imploded. So did the carefully curated and adventurous-looking life that everyone on the outside saw. I was broken.

Please allow me a “real talk” time out, folks.

Can we discuss the importance of using our persistent feelings as signals, or guideposts? I’m not suggesting we throw out logic. I’m also not referring to our typically loud and fleeting reactions to everyday stressors. I’m talking about an instinctive knowing, the quiet kind that’s easy to ignore.

Though I routinely taught this to my own two children and students, my intellectualizing didn’t mean I was actually practicing what I preached. Not by a long shot.

Not until a powerful wave of grief swept the rug out from under me, that is.

Deeply empathetic and sensitive, with a mother who was a counselor, I grew up learning how to accept and validate my feelings. I knew to listen to them, to manage them when they didn’t serve me, and to use them to identify opportunities to learn more about myself. So, why on earth would I work so hard to hide them from my own conscious awareness for years when I knew my marriage and career were no longer right for me? I’ve got thoughts on that.

Perhaps it was because ignoring my feelings and deeper knowing kept me safely in a socially acceptable family structure.

Perhaps it was because ignoring my feelings and deeper knowing made it easy to receive invitations to holiday dinners with other international families while living abroad.

Perhaps it was because ignoring my feelings and deeper knowing allowed me to continue to make good money, feel successful as a professional, provide for my children, and travel to new countries a few times a year.

Perhaps it was because ignoring my feelings and deeper knowing had predictable, albeit routinely unpleasant, results.

Perhaps it was because I had no idea who I would be if I wasn’t a wife or a teacher.

But when my mother passed away, my entire world went dark. Suddenly, nothing else mattered.

Losing my mother was the single hardest experience of my lifetime. It was also the catalyst for my own wake-up call on multiple levels. And perhaps this was what my soul needed to remember how to seek what did matter, and to recognize my own fulfillment as worthy of sitting at the very top spot of that list.

Layers of grief forced me to experience feelings I’d been bottling up for years. Grief pressed me to listen to my feelings and to ask what there was to learn from the patterns in my life. It begged me to create the space and stillness to finally accept that the career and life I had built were ones I had long outgrown. It also prompted me to finally ask for help.

I wasn’t happy living a life I had built decades ago because I was no longer that person, and accepting this realization was empowering.

Eventually, and with the aid of some irrefutable signs from the universe and some excellent coaching, I gave myself permission to pivot from my profession. I could also see that my resistance to change had been the only true thing standing between me and a much more fulfilling life and career. Not anymore.

Loss is a beast. But on the other side of it, there is inevitably gain.

If you find yourself at a crossroads in life and crave a pathway for building something new to fit the person you have grown into, I have an annoyingly obvious secret to share. The only person capable of carving this way forward is you. And while this may feel like an impossible and unwelcome challenge, I venture to say that this fact could end up being your greatest gift.

What if you could see beyond the endings and revel in the endless possibilities ahead?

What kind of work and contribution to the world would you pursue if none of society’s imposed limits existed?

If money were no object, what would you spend your time doing.

What type of life do you want to build for yourself?

What would future you, nearing the end of their life, look back on and smile contentedly about?

While I can’t give you any of your answers, my own failures and aha moments have allowed me to compile the following tips for folks like you who may be approaching a career transition.

If you’ve decided your fulfillment should be at the top of your life list and you’re ready to update your career to match the version of you who is reading this today, try these five tips on for size.

1. Create some space or spaciousness before life creates it for you.

Once upon a time, before my whole world stopped with a single sharp loss, my mind loved wasting entire days on unimportant details of daily life. The state of constant busyness I tended to wrap myself in had allowed me to bury the deep feelings of restlessness and dissatisfaction lurking faithfully just below the surface.

My incessant thoughts were part of my unconscious “living” and were a big part of what prevented me from being aware, present, and authentic in my current reality. I thought my thoughts were me, but I was so far from the truth.

I may never have stopped this incessant mind-drivel had I not been handed Don’t Believe Everything You Think: Why Your Thinking Is the Beginning and End to Your Suffering by Joseph Nguyen.

It taught me that if I didn’t choose to actively create internal space by taking up daily yoga and meditation (or another practice), I never would have gotten to know who I truly was. And without that, how on earth would I have created a career shift to match the updated version of myself? (News flash: I would not have.)

If you choose just one item from this list to try before making a career shift, please let this be the one. Commit to one practice that creates spaciousness in your life and refuse to let go. Because if your new career is going to match the updated version of you, you have got to start with getting to know yourself. And you’ll only achieve this by making space and staying there a while, routinely.

2. Take stock of the childhood dreams you (mistakenly) labeled as fantasies.

What did you want to do when you were seven? You may laugh, but this question is so useful in helping us to see what our soul has always been drawn to do (at least, before society stepped in with all of its “shoulds”).

When we’re young children, we’re not nearly as caught up in our own minds as our adult selves are. As a result, we’re much more easily opened up to our purpose, our desires, and joy-seeking behaviors.

Make a list of the things you enjoyed doing as a seven-year-old. Do you still do any of these things today? Do any of these things appeal or inspire new, similar ideas? Take stock, and please don’t laugh them off. The key to a glorious, fulfilling future may lie in these former hobbies and interests.

3. See yourself for who you are now (not for who you used to be).

Let’s also be sure to get to know the person we have become today.

If nobody in your family could see into your ballot box for career-choosing, where would your vote go? We no longer need to please our parents! We’re adulting, after all. We aren’t here to please our spouses or our children either (though we can and should darn well love the heck out of them). We are here to please ourselves, and once that’s in place, well, you know the rest.

For some of us, asking people who are closest to us for feedback can really help to get the ball rolling, too. What do our closest friends or colleagues see as our key strengths and weaknesses? What do they notice us bringing to any room we enter? Keep the feedback that resonates and leave the rest.

4. Notice what fires you up.

What do you find yourself getting passionate (either intensely interested or completely annoyed) about? What could you spend your whole day doing (if life wasn’t always “lifing”)? What comes easily to you and allows you to feel in the flow?

Herein lie clues about your interests and passions, and potentially some of your core skills or gifts. What makes time fly by for you? What conversations do you find yourself drawn to or searching for?

What do you realize you stand for again and again, regardless of circumstances? What values does this reflect that you hold? Once you’ve answered some of these questions, check to see if the career paths you’re considering would complement, jive with, or fall right in line with at least one of these things.

5. Test out potential careers before jumping.

A change as big as a career shift warrants some personal research. And according to professional research, humans are pretty terrible at predicting what will make us happy. We’ve simply got to test our ideas out.

What if I told you that you could create some ways to test out potential career pivots before making them? Have you considered volunteer work? What about emailing every contact you have to ask if they know anyone working in the field who’d be willing to have a career curiosity call?

Could you come up with a project that would allow you to test out/try out new skills? What about a job shadow day? Have you considered cold messaging someone via LinkedIn who works in that field?

Whatever ideas you come up with will inevitably be better than simply jumping at your best guess. Get in there! Get creative. And get started on updating your life and career to match who you are today, not the person you were years ago when you created the life you’re still living now.

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“You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.” ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

We often hear about storms as powerful forces of nature, but for many of us, the most intense storms are the silent ones—those we battle internally. For me, this storm took the shape of bullying. While I appeared to handle the daily microaggressions and malicious rumors, inside, I was crumbling.

The bullying didn’t stop in high school; it followed me into adulthood. Every time I thought I had weathered the storm, another wave of hurtful comments would crash over me, leaving me feeling trapped and powerless.

The constant gossip, whispers, and passive-aggressive remarks from others chipped away at my self-worth. I questioned my value, wondering if I deserved the treatment. Was there something inherently wrong with me? Why was I the target of this relentless negativity? These thoughts haunted me for years, leading to a vicious cycle of self-doubt, anxiety, and fear of being judged.

At one point, the weight of all these feelings became too much to bear, and I sought counseling. It was in therapy that I first learned about mindfulness, a practice that would transform my life.

Mindfulness helped me confront the storm I had been carrying inside for years—the shame, hurt, and loss of self-worth brought on by years of bullying and mistreatment. Here’s how this practice helped me heal and reclaim my self-worth, and how you, too, can apply it to your life if you’ve experienced bullying, mistreatment, or any form of emotional harm.

How Bullying and Mistreatment Lead to Low Self-Worth

Bullying and mistreatment don’t just hurt in the moment—they can have a lasting effect on how we see ourselves for years.

Whether it’s gossip, exclusion, or direct harassment, these experiences erode our self-worth. We begin to question our value, internalizing the cruel words and actions of others. Over time, we might start to believe that we deserve the mistreatment, or that there’s something wrong with us.

This low self-worth can affect every aspect of our lives, from our relationships to our careers. We might shy away from opportunities, convinced that we’re not good enough. We might struggle to form meaningful connections, believing that we’re unlovable. The effects of mistreatment run deep, but they don’t have to define us.

Mindfulness, self-compassion, and community support can help us rebuild our sense of self. By acknowledging our pain, letting go of what we can’t control, and surrounding ourselves with people who lift us up, we can reclaim our self-worth and begin to see ourselves as deserving of love, respect, and kindness.

Acknowledge Your Pain and Validate Your Emotions

For years, I hid behind a mask of indifference. I convinced myself that the bullying didn’t affect me. I didn’t want to give my bullies the satisfaction of knowing they had hurt me. But in reality, each cruel word, each whisper, left a mark on my self-worth. The more I bottled up my emotions, the more they festered, eroding my sense of self.

The first step in my healing journey was acknowledging the pain and allowing myself to feel it. Through mindfulness, I learned that running from my emotions only gave them more power over me. Instead, I had to sit with them—feel the sadness, frustration, anger, and betrayal. I had to give myself permission to grieve the parts of myself I had lost to bullying. Only then could I begin to heal.

Tip: If you’re struggling with emotions from past mistreatment, take a moment each day to ask yourself, “What am I feeling right now?” Don’t judge yourself for feeling anger, sadness, or resentment—acknowledge these emotions and sit with them. By allowing yourself to feel, you can begin the process of healing.

Use Mindful Breathing to Regain Control

There were countless moments where the weight of gossip and harsh comments felt suffocating. I often felt powerless, lost in a spiral of negative thoughts. Every time I walked into a room, I felt like everyone was judging me, like they had already formed opinions about me based on lies. I didn’t know how to cope with the overwhelming feelings of shame and fear.

Mindful breathing became my anchor—a simple yet profound technique that helped me center myself in these overwhelming situations. Instead of allowing my mind to spiral, I learned to focus on my breath. It was the one thing I could control, even when I couldn’t control the rumors or the people spreading them. In those moments, mindfulness gave me back a sense of power and control over my emotional state.

Tip: The next time anxiety or fear begins to take hold, focus on your breath. Inhale deeply, paying attention to the air entering and leaving your body. This simple practice can bring you back to the present moment, offering a sense of calm and control when you need it most.

Build Self-Compassion to Heal the Hurt

For a long time, I let the words of others dictate how I saw myself. I internalized the bullying, believing that if so many people thought poorly of me, it must be true. I criticized myself relentlessly, convinced that I was not good enough, smart enough, or likable enough. The words of others had become the lens through which I viewed myself.

Mindfulness taught me the importance of self-compassion. I realized that I was treating myself far worse than I would treat a friend in need. Through this practice, I learned to be kinder to myself—to approach myself with the same care and empathy I would offer someone else who was struggling. Slowly, I began to rebuild my self-worth, not based on what others thought of me but on how I chose to treat myself.

Tip: Each day, write down three things you appreciate about yourself. Whether it’s a strength, a skill, or even just how you made it through a tough moment, these small affirmations can help rebuild your confidence. Self-compassion is a powerful defense against negativity, reminding you that you are deserving of kindness—especially from yourself.

Practice Letting Go of What You Can’t Control

One of the hardest lessons I had to learn was that I couldn’t control how others perceived me. I spent years trying to defend myself against rumors, trying to correct false assumptions people had about me. The more I tried to control the narrative, the more exhausted and frustrated I became. I realized that no matter what I did, some people would always see me in a negative light—and that wasn’t my responsibility to fix.

Mindfulness taught me that while I couldn’t control the rumors, I could control my response to them. I learned to let go of the need to be liked or understood by everyone. Instead, I focused on how I saw myself and how I wanted to show up in the world. Letting go of what I couldn’t control was liberating—it allowed me to focus on what truly mattered: my own peace of mind and self-worth.

Tip: Visualize the hurtful words—or, in my case, the hurtful people—as leaves gently floating down a stream. Observe them as they pass by, acknowledge their presence, but resist the urge to hold onto them. This practice allows you to create emotional space and frees you from being weighed down by things beyond your control.

Find Strength in Community

Healing doesn’t happen in isolation. While mindfulness was essential in my recovery, finding support from others played a significant role too. For years, I had isolated myself, afraid that opening up would make me vulnerable to more judgment. But through counseling and support groups, I realized that sharing my experiences with others who understood helped lift the weight I had been carrying.

Opening up to trusted friends, seeking professional help, and connecting with a community of people who understood what I was going through helped me regain my voice. It allowed me to shift the narrative that had been imposed on me, to reclaim my story, and to see myself not as a victim of bullying but as someone who had the strength to heal.

Tip: Don’t hesitate to seek help from others, whether through counseling, support groups, or mindfulness communities. Finding a group where people understand what you’re going through can provide both personal growth and emotional support, reminding you that you’re not alone.

Mindfulness Is a Lifelong Practice

Healing from mistreatment and reclaiming your self-worth is not an overnight process—it takes time. For me, mindfulness became the foundation of my recovery, and it’s something I continue to practice daily. By integrating mindfulness into my routine, I learned to navigate emotional challenges with grace and resilience.

Tip: Start small. Whether it’s taking a few moments of mindful breathing or journaling your emotions, every step helps you regain control. Remember, you are stronger than the words that hurt you. With mindfulness, self-compassion, and a supportive community, you can reclaim your self-worth—one step at a time.

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