Healing through art & therapy! I used to be depressed and codependent with very low self worth and many unhealthy habits. But several years ago I started the healing process and am sharing what I learned with gratitude and hope for each of us. Peace & hugs, Leah
We all have hangups, but a majority of those stem from “expectations” taught by society, not from a natural sense of survival. We are taught to be ashamed of our bodies, our desires, our unique quirks. Why do we allow this?
It’s been quite a journey for me to grow and learn to recognize unnecessary expectations.
I used to feel embarrassed about my period, but now I see how silly it is to feel weird about a natural process of my body.
It’s odd that we insist on hiding menstruation which is such a vital part of life and birth for women AND men.
I’ve been slowly dissecting all the cultural expectations placed on me for being female. I recently stopped shaving my legs and it took a whole year to get used to that. Then I stopped feeling as if I needed to always wear makeup. I learned to appreciate and respect myself in a new way. After years of low self-worth this is huge!
Step by step I’m learning lessons about self-care, self-love and how to enjoy life without the shackles of tradition. It’s liberating and empowering.
What hangups are stopping you from fully enjoying life and reaching your potential?
Are you ready to let go of those and free your self to focus on things that really matter to you?
Gratitude is an action that opens you up to infinite possibilities. How often do you openly practice gratitude?
I’ve found gratitude is a great way to inspire myself toward action. When I’m honestly grateful for something than I care more and that lights a fire in my heart to be protective.
Here is what inspired me to write this post.
Thanks to pressure from environmental organizations, scientists and people in the US and Canada President Obama finally rejected the dreaded Keystone XL pipeline. http://huffpost.com/us/entry/55e74fd1e4b0b7a9633b693c
This is something I’ve been actively petitioning, attending rallies and contacting my representatives to stop. I’m filled with gratitude about the recent decision.
The environmental action agency 350.org is sending gratitude cards to him showing our appreciation of his decision. Here is what I wrote.
“Thank you for choosing to protect the soil which grows our food, the water that gives us life, the trees which clean our air and the communities where we live. Sustainable energy is our future. The Keystone XL pipeline should never be built. We belong to the earth, it does not belong to us.”
We already know that pollution is destroying our planet and killing us. So when will we actually join together and take the major lifestyle and cultural changes to protect out world?
How many more plastic bottles can we buy, how many more chemicals can we spray on our food, how many more times can we support mass consumerism?
When will we stop shopping for unsustainable products, toxic beauty products and supporting unregulated factories producing all this future landfill litter?
Why aren’t more of us who know better saying NO to blindly destroying this planet that we belong to?
Who of us is ready to BE the change they want to see?
Start with gratitude.
What are you grateful for that needs your support?
Purple ribbons have become a symbol for domestic violence. During the 70’s feminists made great strides in raising awareness about DV(domestic violence), but unfortunately not enough. Today we can show our support for ending domestic violence by wearing a purple ribbon and raising that much-needed awareness. Why purple? It traditionally symbolizes mourning and is also the color of a bruise so it’s quite fitting when you think of the millions of people affected each year by domestic violence. “On average, 24 people per minute are victims of rape, physical violence or stalking by an intimate partner in the United States — more than 12 million women and men over the course of a year.” Thehotline.org/resources/statistics/
On Jezebel, writer Caroline Weinberg argues that purple ribbons are as important as pink because DV is a health issue just like cancer. I totally agree. After working at a resource center for domestic violence I saw so many women, children and even men walk through the door. They didn’t often have really obvious bruises, but they were all in some stage of fear and that is very unhealthy. So if you have pink ribbons on your car, your home or your jewelry please consider adding a purple ribbon next to it.
“Domestic violence is a women’s health issue. It can be screened for, like cancer; its treatment can be as essential and lifesaving as reproductive care. DV does not discriminate—it is not restricted by gender, sexual orientation, education level, religion, ethnicity, or socioeconomic status, and it affects millions of women each year. Yet it is consistently relegated to the background, the dirty secret no one wants to talk about.” Read the full article Jezebel.com/purple-goes-with-your-pink-ribbon-domestic-violence-is-1737008011
Every time a celebrity is abused or a local woman is killed by her partner we are forced to see that partner abuse hasn’t gone away. Let’s raise hell. By wearing a purple ribbon we have the opportunity to spark conversations, to show those who may be suffering they aren’t alone and to help raise awareness just like we’ve done with pink ribbons and breast cancer.
The following is part of the What’s Your Story series where people share experiences of personal development, overcoming obstacles and healing.
When I was 16, I was put into foster care. In less than two years I was placed with four different families in three different cities, all at the whim of the state and the courts. It was scary and confusing but most of all, lonely. Being thrust into the home of strangers, expected to adapt and fit in without causing any trouble. Learning new rules, different expectations with each new home, your things stuffed into trash bags with each new move. And all of it, completely outside of your control.
I arrived at Eula’s house 21 days after entering foster care. Following my case worker up the stairs to enter this newest stranger’s house. I didn’t know what to expect. My heart beating in my chest as I waited to meet my newest “mother” as we stood outside her parlor in the hallway. In the house behind me I could hear voices and laughter drifting through the air, and an occasional glimpse of the body attached to those voices. Looking around the large house, I thought to myself, maybe I could fit in here.
Knocking on the parlor door, my caseworker entered, leaving me to stand alone while I waited for them to call me in. A short time later, I heard them call to me to join them. I shyly shuffled in, looking down at my shoes, hands fidgeting in front of me. When I heard Eula say, “Look up at me child, let me see you.”
Slowly raising my head, I saw Eula for the first time, sitting in her chair, smiling at me. Giving me a nod when our eyes met, she raised her arms and said, “Come here child, it’s going to be okay now.” I walked into her hug, tears in my eyes, feeling as if I had come home.
Eula loved each of us, all of foster sisters and I, and we all loved her in return, welcoming us as we arrived on her doorstep like a long lost daughter. On warm evenings, we would all gather around her outside on the porch and share stories. She would listen to us talk about school, the boys we liked, and our lives in general, smiling indulgently at each of us as we talked. She accepted each of us for who we were, giving us unconditional love, no matter what our situation may have been prior to moving in with her. “A clean slate”, she declared to each of us coming into her home. What happened in the past was the past. From here on out, we would only be judged by how we acted now, both privileges and punishments based solely on our present behavior. I loved her dearly for that. I think everyone in her home did.
Sadly, I was only allowed to stay with her for four months before being moved again, to another city, with another family. None as warm or as loving as what I had had with her. But while I was with her, she taught me to accept people as they were and to never hold their past against them, to take in those in need of help and to love them while they were with me. I have carried those lessons with me for the rest of my life.
I now own a large house of my own, often filled to capacity, and sometimes beyond with people who need a second chance. It started out slowly, more by accident than design, a young 17-year-old girl who’s parents had chosen drugs over her. Then a 17-year-old boy who had been thrown out of a religious sect, left sitting at a gas station, all of his belongings stuffed into garbage bags. Then two young men, one recently released from the Army who had lost their apartment. From there, it snowballed.
Each person who left, to be replaced by someone else, brought to me by someone I had helped before. They come to me broke, desperate, often scared, and with nowhere else to go. They come to me because the system we live in is broken, without adequate safety nets, and very little compassion. They come to me because they need a second chance, a hand up when the world has pushed them down. They come to me, because they have no place in our society, but desperately want to have one.
I have for the last ten years taken in hundreds of people. I have taken in pregnant women, who when they could no longer work, lost their homes because there is no paid medical or family leave in our country. I have taken in ex-vets, who after going to war find it difficult to readjust to civilian life, and find our country has forgotten their service as soon as they took off their uniforms. I have taken in ex-cons who cannot find work or a place to live because they made a mistake. A mistake more often stemming from poverty and desperation, rather than any true malicious intent. I have taken in families when one of the parents has lost their minimum wage job and they could no longer afford to live on their own. I have taken in all those that society has washed their hands of or simply looked away saying, “It’s not our problem.” The ones that fall through the cracks of our fractured society.
I often laugh and say that I’m running a flophouse, but it not that well organized. It is not run as a shelter, it is my home, and while they are with me, it is their home too. Each person treated as family, free to come and go as they please, safely secure in the knowledge that there is someone who cares about them as they put their lives back together. There are very few rules in my house, only two really, help when you can and respect the people around you. My house is often filled with laughter, music, and chaos, each person adding to the tapestry of our lives here, making it a vibrant place to live. I have had artists, musicians, fire spinners, poets and painters, and a variety of other characters have graced my doorstep over the years. They stay with me for awhile, there is no time limit, only when they are ready do they move on. Stepping out of my house with confidence that they can make it on their own, to scatter across the city, and the country, some as far away as Alaska and Hawaii.
In all my years of doing this and all the hundreds of people I have helped, only twice have I had a problem with someone who, with regret, I had to remove from my home. The most common problem I have is simply that there is only one bathroom for sometimes upwards of twelve people. I dream of the day I will have enough money to put in a second bathroom, but until then we cope as best we can, while waiting for our turn. We share what we have, help each other out, support each other when things are bad, and celebrate with them when things are good. Each new person learning what it is to belong to a family again, or maybe even for the first time.
I give each of them my unconditional love, I accept who they are without reservation, and I give each of them a clean slate as they walk through my door. Everyone deserves a second chance to get it right, to learn from their mistakes without paying for them for the rest of their lives. To learn how to stand up proudly and feel worthy of being treated like a person, someone who matters, maybe for the first time in their lives.
I have made a difference. I cannot change the world, but I can change the world for one person, and for me, right now, that is enough.
My life did not end up where I thought I would be when I was young and was asked what do you want to be when you grow up? I know the answer now, when I grow up I want to be happy. I still haven’t grown up, but I have learned to be happy, and maybe some day I will figure out the rest. Until then I will continue to stumble along, laughing at myself and my mistakes, learning from them and sharing them with others.
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Do you have a story of how your life changed for the better? Did you overcome a tragedy, depression, addiction, illness or a rough start in life? Everybody has a story. Please visit the What’s Your Story? page to share yours.
Be aware, don’t live in fear!
If you want to arm yourself with personal safety products please check out my shop MyDamselPro.net/Pro9927
This November the Love Warrior Community has started a 30 day gratitude challenge. I LOVE this kind of challenge. In a world with so much pain, fear and anger, finding gratitude can give us the extra energy we need to be the change we want to see.
Gratitude is quite a radical idea these days. We constantly absorb messages that we need more, we need new, we need something that we don’t have if we want to be happy. How loco is that? I learned that happiness comes from within. It’s a seed that you water and cultivate until it is ever-present in your life.
For those of us who always want more why is it so hard to appreciate what we have?
I was never much into the idea of gratitude until I spent many years being so unhappy that my existence became a chore. So much so that I wished for oblivion, though I never attempted suicide. Experiencing the pain after a close friend kill himself when I was 14 convinced me that was a pain I could never inflict on my loved ones. I simply wished for a quick accidental death. By practicing gratitude and many other therapeutic exercises(read my D.I.Y. Therapy posts) I learned to create a healthier mind with thoughts that build me up instead of tearing me to pieces.
I’ve learned to be grateful for past pains, for current obstacles and for whatever future comes my way. Now there are more happy and grateful days and fewer unhappy and ungrateful days. Now I wish for as much time as possible so I can actively create the world I want to see.
I’ve often wondered what would happen if I got stunned. So far I’m too afraid to find out. Luckily there are people out there willing to be shocked, like the man in this video.
When using a stun gun try to aim for the neck, torso or hips. Depending on the size of the person they will be unable to move for 5-30 minutes. These days most stun guns are equipped with a safety pin tha wraps around your wrist. This way if it’s taken away from you the pin will be instantly removed and the stun gun cannot be used against you.
If you own a stun gun, it’s important to practice holding, it, turning it on, and pulling it out of your holster or pocket. When practicing be sure to only allow the volts to flash for a second. If you hold it on for too long and it’s not touching someone it will burn out and be useless. However when you’re defending yourself against an attacker hold it against their body until they fall down. If you want to arm yourself with a stun gun please check out my shop MyDamselPro.net/Pro9927
DO YOU HAVE A STUN GUN? IF SO, HAVE YOU USED IT AND WAS IT HELPFUL?
Anxiety seems to come out of nowhere, knocking me backwards into the fear zone. I suddenly don’t want to continue with whatever it is I need to do. I want to go hide under a rock and give up. Physically I feel sick in my stomach. Mentally I start thinking about all that can go wrong and begin visualizing scenarios of myself failing miserably. Next are tears building up and ready to pour. My thoughts turn dark, “what’s wrong with me”, “why can’t I do anything right”, “how can I be such a loser”.
Goodby balance! Hello panic attack!
Do you ever feel like this? I know from talking with friends that anxiety comes in different forms with different feelings. One thing that is the same though is how difficult anxiety is to stop. Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m getting sucked into the fear zone. It’s so uncomfortably familiar, as if I never left.
Slowly I’ve been teaching myself to stop anxiety as soon as I feel the dull ache and dark clouds. I have a mantra and I’m sharing it with you in hopes that you can utilize it or be inspired to create your own. This is what I tell anxiety.
“I RECOGNIZE WHAT IS HAPPENING.
MOVE OVER ANXIETY!
I CHOOSE TO BE HAPPY.
I AM OKAY.
I AM OKAY.
I AM OKAY!“
Does it really work?
Yes. It really does. Because this is a trigger mantra for me.
Once I say this I can remember that I’m strong and that mistakes and wrong turns are just lessons. I tell myself that I’m safe, I’m loved, I’m skilled, I love life and that life is an adventure. Oftentimes I remind myself that the anxiety I’m feeling is about something that HAS NOT HAPPENED so I need to relax.
My next step is to slow my breathing back to normal and either continue with my task at hand or take a break and focus on something peaceful. Remembering positive experiences where I took control of my life or successfully completed a project really helps me to KNOW that I really am okay now and I will be okay no matter what happens.
IF YOU TRY THIS PLEASE SHARE IF IT WORKED FOR YOU OR NOT?
IF NOT, WHAT DOES WORK FOR YOU?
This is just ONE of many lessons I’m learning as I heal and grow. If you’re ready to heal, read my other posts about D.I.Y. Therapy.
You may have seen this video making the rounds on social media. I have seen it a few times and LOVE it! Made in 1947 it shows an average sized woman consistently flipping, knocking and pulling down a larger muscular male “attacker”. While I’m not sure I could flip someone over my back like she did, some of these moves are spot on.
Did you see that move where she bent over, grabbed his leg, pulled him off-balance and then twisted his ankle putting her in the position of power? That was amazing.
Throughout the video she shows that technique can be as helpful as strength. She grabs his hair to control where his head goes, yanks his arms in unnatural positions, pins him down and uses his momentum to throw him off of her.
When I teach self-defense I always stress the importance of vital points! If you gouge the eyes they can’t see where you move next, if you dig your nails into their ears they suffer tremendous pain, if you punch the solar plexus their breath is taken away and if you “pick the peaches” (grab, twist and pull on the testes) you can bring them to their knees giving you a chance to run for heLp and call the police.
WHICH MOVE FROM THE VIDEO DO YOU THINK YOU CAN DO?
YOU MATTER! Yor life is worth defending. Don’t live in fear, be aware.
If you’re searching for inspiration and want to get involved in creating positive sustainable change for everyone, read this book. You will gain valuable insights in regards to education, human rights, racism, immigration, oppression, war and the harsh realities of our justice system. Each voice offers ways to become involved, from taking small actions in our communities to creating broader government reform for the people and equality across borders. Women’s voices are given ample space to share their own insight and experience which is often missing from similar books.
I was inspired by all the voices from such diverse backgrounds who are so bravely taking on injustice and inequality. Here are some of my favorites.
“At one time, I was confused about who had it better or worse – immigrants or Blacks? But now I realize that it is not a ranking of oppression that matter, but who leads to unite us for radical change.” -Norma Gallegos
“People of color, immigrants, the homeless, youth, women, queers, dissenters and striking unionists all have the legal right to be free from police abuse. True, that right is violated every hour. But by uniting with each other in the streets and on civilian review boards we can take some important steps toward making that right on paper a right in reality.” -Emily Woo Yamasaki
“During a study group…I learned the true history of the civil right movement in the US and women’s decisive role in it. And became conscious for the first time that I was part of a huge working class. That’s when I grasped that standing up against social injustice like bigotry against immigrants, police violence and racism was just plain necessary.” -Karla Alegria
“It is the job of those who have lived through many of Uncle Sam’s wars to say to our young hermanas and hermanos: Gente, without you, the US can’t maim and drop it’s bombs around the world. Resist, and we will be beside you.” -Moises Montoya
There are so many more voices on important issues that should be heard and I’m so grateful to have read this collection. If you’re ready to be inspired get this book through Red Letter Press,
You can’t make it through childhood without consuming images of girls as the weaker sex and fairy tales of girls as princesses and boys as knights in shining armor. As girls we are taught to wait for someone stronger, someone with a Y chromosome, to save us. Even as media has progressed, these misleading images continue to dominate our entertainment landscape and distort young minds. I was lucky to have a strong independent, take no BS mom and other strong female role models who encouraged me to be independent. Even so the damage had been done. Peer pressure to be ‘girly’ and mass media continued to counteract their words. From girlhood to adulthood I wrongly believed that I couldn’t save myself. For so long I waited, hopefully hopeless in a fearful state. Nobody ever came to save me. Years after the physical violence ended, mentally I was still waiting for a hero to help me. Eventually the former fiery girl inside of me began to reemerge and hesitantly began dissecting the messages I had been consuming. I learned that the only one who could save me was me.
I often get asked why or how I became a self-defense instructor and most people expect me to answer that I’m a student of martial arts, but that’s not my story. I trained to become a certified instructor from an ongoing frustration that oppression and violence against women was rampant. After years of shrinking away from violence in my youth and allowing much of my adult life to be controlled by fear an unexpected job changed my direction and gave me hope. I found a job at a center helping victims of domestic violence and sexual assault. Both of those experiences planted the seeds of working in prevention. Teaching women to be stronger has now become my purpose. I finally shed the image of a princess in waiting.
Since 2012 I’ve been teaching self-defense to women and girls. Initially I charged a fee for participants, but then I started teaching free classes to a local LGBTQ center and that experience led me to make all my classes free. My reasoning to keep it free is so that nobody feels like they can’t afford to learn one of the most valuable skills that ALL women need to learn. I’m not a fan of violence and wish it didn’t exist, but until the day when violence against women is no longer so rampant teaching others will be my gift to the world.
Free however doesn’t cover the costs of padding, props, materials, transportation, ongoing training and outreach for my classes so last month I became a Damsel In Defense representative. Through this company I can earn money to cover costs by selling personal safety products. I can now show women how to use stun guns, pepper spray and personal alarms along with my free self-defense classes. There will be situations where women are unable to fight off an attacker so spraying their eyes with pepper or sounding a loud alarm to get help is necessary.
While there is a valid argument that encouraging women to arm themselves in case of an attack is a form of victim blame, “If only you had pepper spray you could have escaped”; the sad fact is that violence against women is a REAL problem. It hasn’t gone away and it is a global epidemic. Victim blame is not at all my intention, I feel for anyone who has been attacked and know from personal experience the dangerous path where victim blame leads. I know that violence is not the victims fault. I always tell participants in my class that violence is a choice, a terrible choice made out of free will. It is never the victims fault. I sell these products and teach self-defense out of a deep longing for women to be safer, to actually BE stronger. Part of that is feeling safe against the statistics that 1 in 5 women (and 1 in 7 men) have been victims of domestic violence. Violence against women, violence in general, is a serious problem and won’t be going away anytime soon.
So what do you think? Are you going to be a princess waiting for a knight in shining armor or become your own?
If you want to arm yourself with personal safety products please check out my shop MyDamselPro.net/Pro9927
Individual Empowerment 