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  We come to understand that real pain can make us useful as a midwife for another woman’s sorrow or fear. When this happens, we start to regret less what we’ve lived through. Any residual feelings of hopelessness and victimization start to fade as we realize we are taking our place in a chain of women—stretching back through history—who have felt deeply and been there to hold a light for another walking in darkness.

  Acceptance in the Wider World

  When you invoke the agent of change called acceptance, you must accept all that you are, all that you’ve been, and all that you will be in the future.

  —DEBBIE FORD (1955–2013), self-help author and coach

  Politically, the idea of acceptance can bring up strong reactions. Because in many cultures and in many different ways women lack power and freedom, we are often forced to accept the unacceptable.

  But this Principle is not about accepting the unacceptable. It is about coming to terms with the problem, however ugly, so that we can begin to change it.

  As the old saying goes: when it’s raining, let it. Once you’ve stopped trying to prevent the raindrops from falling, you can put up an umbrella and take shelter while the storm passes. Or, better still, find a way of collecting and reusing the water!

  Our goal as activists is simple: to reduce the amount of avoidable suffering that exists in the world. Practicing acceptance in our own lives prepares us for the work ahead.

  You can start right now by feeling what needs to be felt, avoiding self-made dramas, and then making yourself available to walk with another as she does the same.

  How different and more peaceful would the world be if we all took responsibility for feeling our sorrows? If we sought change from a position of wholeness and spent our energy on the issues where we can really make a difference?

  Reflection

  The greatest illusion we have is that denial protects us. It’s actually the biggest distortion and lie. In fact, staying asleep is what’s killing us.

  —EVE ENSLER, playwright and performer, and author of The Vagina Monologues

  I used to think that accepting reality was giving up the fight. I didn’t want anything to do with it—I wanted a world where pain and suffering didn’t exist. Now I know that when I accept life on life’s terms I can find peace no matter what.

  Action. Today I will embrace life as it is and feel whatever emotions need to be felt.

  Affirmation. My feelings guide me home.

  Principle 3

  COURAGE: Ending the Victim Trap

  We don’t develop courage by being happy every day. We develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity.

  —BARBARA DE ANGELIS, bestselling author and authority on personal growth and relationships

  Courage is the Principle that frees us from our past. It enables us to live fully in the present by shedding the stories and unresolved anger that can keep us trapped. It puts us firmly on the path to wholehearted, authentic living.

  This is not the courage of stories we heard in our childhoods, which often focused on public (and almost exclusively male) acts of heroism—complete with dragons and angry crowds. The courage that’s called for here is no less brave, but it’s far more profound. It involves becoming the heroine of our own lives and rescuing ourselves from the internal mechanisms that have held us captive.

  Without courage, we remain trapped by attitudes and habits that reinforce our sense of powerlessness and we risk being the victims rather than the heroines of our lives.

  The Story Trap

  Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.

  —ANAÏS NIN (1903–1977), French-born author

  The word courage derives from the French word for “heart”: coeur. In each of our hearts are stories that we think define and protect us but, in fact, keep us trapped.

  As we start to notice and name the emotions, masks, and labels we’ve accumulated, we become more aware of the stories that lie beneath them.

  Our stories are based on our experiences and our attitudes toward them. They’re the narratives through which we try to understand and make sense of our lives, and they’re part of what makes us human. The problem is that they’re rarely accurate. They’re almost always distortions of the truth that can leave us feeling as if we’re victims of events.

  Your story is not who you are, but it is often who you think you are. It is one of the tricks the ego plays on us. And the stories each of us have about ourselves separate us from our real self, leaving us struggling to feel at ease in our own skin.

  Plus, we don’t have just one story. We have entire collections that we layer over one another, fundamentally distorting how we see ourselves.

  Of course, not all our stories are bad. But it doesn’t actually matter whether it is good or bad; if it’s a story, it’s not actually the truth. It’s a racket: a subterfuge under which our real self hides.

  It takes courage to step out from behind these yarns and own your reality. Even when our stories hurt us, we can be reluctant to let go of them because we don’t know who we’ll be without them—our self-identity has become so entangled with them.

  “Who am I,” we might wonder, “if I’m not the child who was neglected or the woman whose partner deceived her?” Who are we if we’re not the mothers who gave up everything for their children and then were abandoned when they left home without a backward glance?

  Who are we if we let go of everything that might have been or we believe should have been? Fundamentally, who are we if we shed our wounds and our defenses? This path is about finding out. But before we can find out who we are, we have to summon the courage to let go of pretending to be who we are not.

  * * *

  Exercise 1: What’s Your Story?

  * * *

  This exercise has two parts. The first will help you to identify and shed the stories that keep you trapped. The second gives you a wonderful tool to transform them.

  Part 1: Identify Your Story

  Have your journal ready. Take five deep breaths to center yourself. What is your dominant story? This isn’t the story you’d give at a job interview or if you were speed dating. It’s more likely what you’d say if you were having a heart-to-heart with a kindred spirit or a first session with a therapist.

  Your story will have an emotional “charge” to it—usually sadness, regret, or anger. It will hurt.

  It may center on a childhood event or a loss. It could be that you’ve been single for a long time, had an abusive marriage, or have never been able to conceive.

  Often it feels as if our stories about ourselves are hardwired. They are tattoos or brands burned into our souls—something that we’ll never be able to change or erase.

  Once you’ve identified a dominant story, sit down and write it out in your journal. Write it over and over, as if you were a child writing lines: “I was abandoned as a girl.” “I’m a single mother.” “I’m long-term unemployed.” “I was left.” “I was betrayed.” Keep writing until it becomes as meaningless as any phrase does when it’s repeated enough.

  You may need to cry while doing this exercise. But write through the tears, write through the pain, and write until you are out the other side. And then still keep writing. Write until there is no emotional charge left to what you are writing and then, once it feels as if the pain has gone, write another full page’s worth. Write until it is as meaningless as gibberish, because that is what it is.

  You might think it’s damaging to keep repeating a negative message, but the odds are that you’ve been reinforcing it all along, countless times a day—to yourself and to everyone you meet—whether you were aware of it or not.

  We tell our stories over and over until they are worn out. We repeat them and repeat them, often until we die. Writing it out like this is an intervention. You drain the emotion out of it so that you are left with empty words on the page. But within those empty words, which feel like history, is hidden vital information that you can use to
finally set yourself free.

  Now it’s time to mine the gold that lies at its heart.

  Part 2: Rewrite Your Story

  Look closely at the sentence you wrote in the last exercise. It contains a message for you. What is the belief about yourself that lies within it? Not the detail, but the essence.

  If your story is that you’re alone, perhaps your underlying belief is that you are worthless or unlovable. Perhaps it’s that you’re just plain unlucky in love or doomed in some way. If you recognize the message as one you were given in childhood, that’s a clue, because that’s when most damaging messages are imprinted.

  You’ll know when you say it to yourself that it’s true in the same way that you know you’ve got a splinter. The source is a sharp, clear pain.

  Now write yourself an affirmation based on that sentence. You may have written one before, but if not, it should be short, simple, positive, and stated in the present tense. It’s not a statement of longing; it’s a statement of fact. Here are some examples, but it’s better to tailor one for yourself:

  “I exist.”

  “I am loved.”

  “I am resilient and strong.”

  “I am perfect just the way I am.”

  “I am enough.”

  Put it where you can see it—maybe on a Post-it note stuck to the edge of your computer screen, your bathroom mirror, your car dashboard, or inside your journal or iPad cover. Say your affirmation whenever you start to wobble or revert to your story or the emotional reactivity or shutting down that comes with it. Use it as a spiritual shield to protect yourself throughout your day.

  Notice how many times a day you’re tempted to draw on your story as a resource for defining yourself. Perhaps you’re in a line for lunch, and someone pushes in front of you: “I’m invisible” might pop into your head. Or perhaps you hear that you haven’t been invited to a party that others you know will attend: you might automatically think, “I’m unlovable” or “I’m alone.” Use your affirmation to neutralize and replace your story.

  * * *

  For many years, whenever I was doing a mundane task like cleaning or packing, there would be a constant argument in my head. I would be defending myself about something or telling somebody what I really wanted them to know about themselves; whatever it was, it was fraught, and I was in attack mode. Fortunately, that is no longer my experience, but it reveals something about where my head was and what was essentially my default stance in the world.

  Today what I notice more is my attachment to a particular story. It’s more likely to be something that I want others to feel sorry for me about. Sometimes I hear the refrain of “Poor me” or “You don’t understand,” which at times heads into “How dare you!” territory. Much of it is an attachment to being right.

  When I notice that this type of thinking has taken over, I need to interrupt it. It becomes important to get to the root of why I feel misunderstood. It’s really easy to allow something like that to fester and to replay my side of events over and over in my head. Undoubtedly, that type of built-up emotion will affect everything I do and get projected into my conversations with everyone I see. How can it not?

  —GA

  Our stories keep us captive and mesmerized. We’re like hostages who’ve become bonded to our captors. It takes courage to break the bond.

  If you find yourself tempted to tell your story—good or bad—remind yourself, “This is just a story, these are just words. The real truth is that I am [loved/worthy/beautiful/a regular human being],” and then carry on with your day. Your ego may put up a fight and want to revert to its version of you, but firmly and kindly use your affirmation to protect yourself from damaging narratives.

  Be vigilant. Like weeds, stories can grow back, but if you’re disciplined, you’ll start to see results. You’ll experience a sense of possibility and expansiveness. You’ll start to recognize your true nature: the essential self that doesn’t change and isn’t shaped by events or challenges. You’ll start to see the truth.

  Yet no matter how much awareness we practice, sooner or later we’re likely to pick up another story, so use the “What’s Your Story?” exercise whenever you have a persistent negative thought or tale in your mind. Interrupt it and neutralize it with an affirmation. The only story that ultimately serves you is that you are enough just as you are.

  The story I carried with me from growing up in an alcoholic home was that I was invisible. I told myself that nobody saw me and nobody cared, and I discounted any evidence to the contrary. I took the story into adulthood. No matter how many people watched me reporting on TV, no matter how many friends I had, deep down I felt as if I didn’t exist. I was a leaky sieve: as soon as I was filled up with attention, it drained out, and I needed more. My childhood story drove me into a life of constant striving for more and more success and love that was doomed to fail.

  My most recent Post-it says simply, “I exist.” Every time I’m tempted to people-please or do too much, I remind myself, “I exist.” I don’t need to do, say, or prove anything to justify my space in this life or to be worthy of love. I exist whether I do or do not clear a particular hurdle I’ve chosen for myself. I exist whether or not I’m told by anyone else that I’m wonderful or that I’m loved. Pure and simple, I exist.

  —JN

  Having started the practice of freeing ourselves from our stories, we now turn to the courageous work of freeing ourselves from the resentments we’ve accumulated.

  Expect resistance. As with our stories, we often become attached to our resentments, despite the devastating harm they cause.

  Releasing Anger Safely

  Holding on is believing that there’s only a past; letting go is knowing that there’s a future.

  —DAPHNE ROSE KINGMA, therapist and author specializing in love and relationships

  When we don’t process our anger properly at the time it arises, it can fester and has the potential to poison our outlook and our lives.

  Anger is a vital and necessary emotion. It drives us to protect ourselves and others, to set boundaries, to say enough is enough. When properly harnessed, it can drive change in our own lives and in the wider world. But for a host of reasons, many of us have problems feeling and expressing anger in a healthy way. There have been social taboos against women expressing anger. We still risk being dismissed as hysterical, shrill, or strident. For example, think of former British prime minister David Cameron’s dismissive “Calm down, dear” to a female colleague in the House of Commons, or the highly personalized attacks Hillary Clinton attracted, which never would have been leveled at a male colleague.

  Similarly, for many women, it isn’t safe to be visibly angry—either culturally or if confronted by an abusive partner.

  Even if you’re alone, it can be terrifying to experience your own anger—especially if you’re not used to it. You can fear it’ll overwhelm you or make you go crazy; that once you let the genie out of the bottle, you’ll never be able to get it back in again and return to your status quo.

  So, for a whole panoply of reasons, many of us bury our anger, shoving it deep down inside, where it becomes trapped as resentment. Before turning to how to release long-held resentments, first it is vital to understand how to process anger safely. It takes courage to release anger, especially when it has been trapped inside you for a time—sometimes from early childhood. Anger, when felt and released in a healthy manner, is the engine that will drive you to sanity. It will give you the power you need to move yourself out of destructive patterns and into emotional freedom.

  So call on the tools you learned in Principles 1 and 2. Notice and name anger whenever you feel it. Then, as soon as you can, feel it and release it.

  Of all the emotions we experience, anger carries and consumes the most energy. Different techniques to release it will work best at different times, so experiment. You can hit pillows, punch beanbags, go for a fast run, box, dance, or stomp, kick, and smash things that you don’t mind breaking. Shout
, write, talk—do whatever it takes to release the feeling. But stay in your body; stay in the feeling. It’s an emotion, not a thought, so ignore any stories your mind is telling you.

  Now is not the time to communicate directly with the person you feel caused your anger. If you speak in the heat of the moment, you risk causing harm. Better by far that you wait until you are calm, powerful, and in your center before you engage. Plus, by the end of this work, your perspective will have undergone a radical change. Old certainties will crumble, and new ones will emerge. So for now, keep the focus on yourself.

  When your mood is low or you’re depressed, you may not even be aware of your anger. Trying to connect with it can be like trying to untangle a ball of knotted wool. But if you find the loose end—the flicker of emotion—no matter how small or hidden it is, and then follow it, you will be able to unravel it.

  * * *

  ANGER BUCKET

  Imagine that you have a bucket deep inside you for storing anger. Over your lifetime, you accumulate a lot of it! If you empty your bucket regularly—by releasing your anger in healthy ways—it is a lot easier to handle. But if you let it get too full, even the smallest event can cause it to overflow. The result is unpredictable and volatile behavior or depression. You want to be calm and gentle, but, out of nowhere, you find yourself raging.

  * * *

  When you don’t express your own anger, you may find others doing it for you. You may wonder why you’re locked in so many similar situations of conflict—not realizing that you are generating the angry responses you encounter. Or, if you’re depressed, you may wonder why others are short-tempered with you when you’re clearly suffering.