Category Archives: Personal Conflict

Falling Out of Fear

For quite some time now, Fear has successfully convinced me that I can’t and I shouldn’t, therefore I didn’t and I wouldn’t…until recently, when I decided that he had dealt the absolute last blow to my self-esteem. After years of putting up with Fear manipulating me, embarrassing me in front of my friends and family, relentlessly criticizing me and starting pointless arguments right before I meet my girls for drinks, I decided the only way was out.

There was no going back after this, so I packed my shit (again) and prepared to go out with a bang.
Much like the other fights we’d had over the years, I cursed and damned him to hell loud enough for the neighbors to hear, threw stuff and threatened to burn the place to a crisp.
“This is it!” I yelled. My wild eyes narrowed as the suppressed madwoman inside me clawed her way to the surface. “Don’t call me, don’t come looking for me at my mama’s house or my job and if you see me in the streets, I suggest you cross to the other side.”
That said, one enraged sweep of my arm cleared a nearby dresser of its contents. Cologne bottles and picture frames clinked and crackled loudly, breaking beneath the pressure of my angry steps. I slammed his door and kicked it as a final expression of utter disdain.
A few months passed and I was becoming accustomed to the idea of living without Fear.  This undoubtedly left me feeling raw and exposed, like a freshly peeled potato. I cautiously approached the idea of going it alone, living life in a Fear-less manner. Little by little, I allowed my mind to tip-toe towards that possibility, carefully spoon-feeding it positive imagery and promises of a life fulfilled.
Just as my optimistic mindset began to blossom, Fear showed back up dressed in his signature style, smelling of his favorite cologne. It was the same scent I stomped on during my grand finale exit. When I noticed the smell clinging to my shoes, I’d tossed them in the trash.

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Why it’s Bad to Hold It

After hanging out last night, I woke up feeling a little down in the dumps. Had one margarita too many and revealed something I should’ve kept to myself.  So all day, I did what I often do when something plagues me–I wallowed. I slept off and on through a Rockefeller documentary, ate a bunch of junk food and scrolled my Twitter timeline. Just as the sun set, I left the house to drive around the lake in an effort to clear my mind.

Back at home, I still hadn’t showered, an act that serves as a personal signal that I’m ready to shake my slump. I sat down at the piano and began practicing. Suddenly, I had an epiphany. I wanted to feel better. However, I didn’t want to do what it took to get there. But why not?

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Calming Your Inner Tornado

Keep this away from the homefront.

Keep this away from the home front.

For me, a day at the office ends in quite the typical manner. I log off my computer, gather my things and say my goodbyes. All official duties stop once I hit that stretch of pavement between the building and my car. Or at least that’s my intention. Sometimes, I don’t realize I’ve subconsciously lugged home after-hours assignments until I’m in my living room, meticulously rehashing the day’s challenges to my husband. One day, in the middle of a particularly feverish rant, I stopped waving my arms around long enough to actually notice him. Even though I probably looked like I was about to take flight, his facial expression still puzzled me.

“What?” I asked him, clueless.

“Sometimes when you come home, you’re like a tornado,” he huffed, now clearly annoyed by my theatrics. “You just unleash all this stress and drama and it brings me down.”

Gulp.

For a split second, I almost took a defensive stance. I came thisclose to telling him how he was an insensitive jerk and to just shut up and support me and UGH!!! Instead, his blunt declaration stopped me dead in my tracks, forcing me to consider his words.

Realizing the accuracy of his assessment, I instantly felt draped in a shroud of shame. I had allowed my experiences on the job to infiltrate our personal space in a negative way.  I’d come to rely on him to allow me to vent and express my frustrations with no filter.  Suddenly, I worried that without an open-ear policy, my sanity would become a distant memory. Then, I recognized that in this moment, he chose to stop enabling me. I had to find a way to manage my frustrations without sacrificing a healthy home.  As a result, I came up with a list of remedies to stormproof the home atmosphere from the withering elements of life at the office:
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