Onion Layers

Today in a meeting, it hit me right between the eyes. From his chair in the corner, he said the words I  have needed to hear: people-pleaser = lack of boundaries. 

I never thought of myself as a people pleaser. However, as I sat there listening, the complexities of my situation unravelled like peeling the layers of an onion to reveal the root problem: PEOPLE. PLEASER.

For the past four months, my need to be right, my need to control every situation, has kept me from seeing the root of my character defects: fear. 

On January 27, 2024, I stood before an audience of nearly 200 people, baring my soul and repenting my arrogance. Today, I see the root of it: control. I crave it. I have this insatiable need to be right—about my politics, my relationships, my work. Everything has to go my way because I. AM. RIGHT.

Why does being wrong feel so agonizing? 

Because my greatest fear is being seen as unintelligent, ignorant, dumb. Much of my childhood was spent trying to prove my worth. To make one person believe in me, to see me, to know I was (am) smart.

And what if I wasn't smart? What did that mean? 

If I'm not smart, then I'm obviously not worthy of love and belonging. That lie sank from my head into the pit of my stomach, hollowness. My fear: being unworthy of love.

What a paradox, because in my head, I know I am worthy of love. The only love I really need is that from my Creator, my God. I, like all of us, have been made in God's image. That alone is enough. I don’t need outside approval or validation to be worthy.

The behavior that flows out of that fear is people pleasing. I’ve spent so much of my life chasing validation from those I think are better than me; trying to get close to the decision-makers, needing them to approve of me so I could feel worthy. 

And not receving validation wrecks me. The hollowness of fear overcomes me. 

Deep down I know I am worthy, But in those moments of chasing validation, my boundaries collapse. I twist myself into whoever I think I need to be for others. When the people I want to impress don’t give me what I crave, my boundaries fall until there are none. I start making decisions just to keep them happy. And then the spiral begins: powerlessness, unmanageability, insanity.

I grasp for control but lose it more and more until I unravel. The anger and resentment I carry toward myself unleashes onto those I love most; the very ones I want close, the ones who truly see me. I sabotage. The cycle repeats. 

Today I saw with fresh eyes how the insanity of my addiction keeps me in this loop even in sobriety. Addiction is not just about the substances we rely on to repress our fears. Addiction is about patterns of thinking and behaving that keep us from confronting that fear.

September is Recovery Month, and it’s true what they say: this is a lifelong journey of peeling back the onion, uncovering the fears at our core... so we can rebuild, not in fear, but in love.

May the road of happy destiny rise before you. 

Pride Goes Before the Spiritual Relapse

Relapse isn’t always about the bottle. Or the pills. Or the needles. Or the affairs.

Sometimes relapse looks like going quiet, numbing out. Pulling away from the people who see you too clearly. Telling yourself you’re “just trying to figure things out” while you slowly drift back into the patterns that nearly cost you everything the first time.

Sometimes relapse comes dressed in respectability.
You pay your bills. You show up to work. You don’t blow anything up.
And so you tell yourself you’re doing okay, because the chaos isn’t obvious.
But inside? You’re lying again. Maybe not to everyone else. But definitely to yourself.

I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it.

The spiritual malady creeps in quietly. Not like fire...like fog.
You stop praying. You stop telling the full truth.
You stop holding yourself accountable. The easier, softer way is to say, “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” than to admit you already did.

You start justifying things. “I didn’t mean to cross a line.” “It didn’t go that far.” "I can stop it before I hurt someone else."

But here’s the thing, you've already caused the hurt. You're just trying to keep the rain from turning into a downpour...you can't stop it, though. The storm is on the way. 

You can be clean, sober, outwardly calm, and still be spiritually sick. You can be a good person and still cause harm. 

I’ve caused harm. I’ve tried to make amends. And the further I go down this path, the clearer it gets: there’s no such thing as emotional neutrality. You’re either making things right or you're letting things rot in silence.

So when I think about relapse now, I don’t just ask, “Did I take a drink?”
I ask:

• Did I lie, even passively?

• Did I let someone believe something I knew wasn’t true?

• Did I hide behind politeness instead of showing up in truth?

That’s where the rubber meets the road...

Spiritual health isn’t just about staying clean.
It’s about living in alignment. No half-truths. No soft betrayals.

Because eventually, the people around you...the ones who used to believe in you? They will stop waiting for you to get honest.

And if you're not careful, you’ll wake up in a life built entirely out of things you never really meant. A house of cards. 

Previous Post: Fear of Rejection

Fear of Rejection

Wouldn't life be easier if we never had to face rejection? 

That's not reality, though... we all face rejection. It's part of being human. 

I came across this beautiful quote a few weeks ago that my brain keeps wandering back to:

"If fear of rejection guides your decisions, you will remain forever stuck. There lies regret. Leap now. The risk is worth it." Author unknown

It is so true, but we cannot leap if we are not living our truth.

And a lot of the time, we don't know what our truth even is. 

If you've read any of this blog, you know that I have been on a journey of self-love that catapulted into a new dimension two and a half years ago when I got sober. Nine months into sobriety, I faced a shocking reality: I didn't (and couldn't see myself). I didn't know myself. I didn't love myself.

This is common in recovery. For those of us who aren't doing the inner work, we may never come to that realization. We avoid truly getting to know ourselves because deep down, we fear what we’ll find; the wounds are too hard to face.

We fear our own rejection.

In the absence of our substance of choice, we cling and grasp onto other distractions. Anything to keep us from discovering the truth of who God created us to be.  It might be gambling, overeating, obsessive scrolling, video games, jumping into relationships to feel wanted, or anything that offers that hit of comfort or dopamine. And here's the truth:

All of it is relapse.

It's not just drinking or using our substance of choice. The distraction is the relapse. 

Five months into sobriety, I thought I was ready for love—but really, I just needed a new fix. I hadn’t gone deep; I hadn't done the real work. So I attached myself to someone and let them become my escape, my higher power, the creator of my worth. When it fell apart I was forced to sit in the wreckage I’d been running from my whole life. I realized I didn’t love myself, and worse, I let others create my worth. I could’ve numbed out again, there was another waiting for me to jump in. The temptation was there. But I didn’t. I went in. Deep. Six months of brutal honesty, inner spiritual work, and sitting with my feelings instead of avoiding them. That’s when the healing began.

Relapse is born out of avoidance. 

Avoidance is rejection. It’s the rejection of doing the terrifying but necessary work of sitting with your own pain. It’s a rejection of growth, of wholeness, of healing. 

Avoidance is the rejection of yourself.

If you're in recovery and doing the work, you know this to be true. 

If you're in recovery and not doing the work, you're avoiding. You're likely using people or things to stay comfortable so you don't have to see yourself, know yourself, or love yourself.

You are rejecting yourself.

Here's the hard truth (as I see it):  If you can’t fully see, know, and love yourself, and you’re depending on outside sources to fill those gaps, you’re driven by a fear of rejection. Not just from others but from yourself.

But why? 

Trauma - stifling trauma that you may not know you carry:

Abandoned as a child by one or both parents?  You carry trauma. 
A parent left you often with a caregiver to find the "perfect" co-parent for you? You carry trauma. 
A caregiver spanked you, called you stupid, or fat, or unworthy, and won't amount to much? You carry trauma.
Abused your body with substances to numb the trauma? You carry a LOT of trauma!

And if you don't do the work, whether you are in recovery or not, that trauma will imprison you. It will cause you to reject yourself over and over and over and over.

You will never know yourself. 

You will stay disconnected from your true self, and you will hurt others in your path.

Here's the good news! YOU DON'T HAVE TO STAY THERE!

You can choose to do the work. You can discover how incredibly beautiful, whole, and divine God made you. It's there, under the rubble of a life shaped by pain, brokenness, and survival.

Don’t live a life of quiet regret.

See yourself. Know yourself. Love yourself.
Learn your truth... and then LIVE IT!
Stop rejecting yourself.
Take the leap.

You are worth the risk.

Next post: Pride Goes Before the Spiritual Relapse

A Child Cries in Despair

On the surface, it looked like a "normal" family. 

If only it had worked out. If only God had aligned these two people in mind, soul, and priorities.

Sometimes love doesn’t work out—not because people don’t care, but because they don't know how to meet each other, no matter how hard they try.

Two adults under the same roof, both devoted to the same child. There was pain, there was distance, there was betrayal, there was misunderstanding. Sometimes, it’s simply two people who are unable, and often unwilling, to do the hard work of emotional growth together.

And now a child cries in despair for an idea of a love they want, but a love that never really existed. 

When a child cries out, all a parent can do is comfort and try to make things make sense, to talk about what love actually is. Not just the fantasy or the chemistry, but the action and choice required to make love work. Love is two people choosing each other, especially when things get hard and uncomfortable. Love withers and dies when we stop showing up, when we refuse to grow out of fear. 

This child deserves to grow into a healthy, happy, and loving person who will enter into secure relationships with confidence. 

It's one of the reasons I've been studying attachment science off and on for a few years. I want to be a better counterpart for my current partner. I want to be a better parent, better sister, better daughter, better pastor, better leader: A BETTER HUMAN.

Attachment science tells us that the way we navigate adult relationships (family, platonic, romantic) starts in infancy (yes, itty bitty babies!) with our primary caregivers. It can also take into account how caregivers relate to their children as they grow, as well as traumatic experiences in adult relationships. 

Attachment is shaped by how we were comforted (or not), how we were allowed to need others (or not), and whether we learned to trust that loved ones would actually stay close when we were vulnerable.

If you learned to survive by keeping distance, (Avoidant) shutting down, or solving everything yourself, it's not brokenness; it's adaptation. It doesn’t mean you don’t need connection; it just means closeness feels risky. Healing requires you to see that the risk is worth it. 

If you learned to survive by clinging tightly, (Anxious) overthinking, or trying to earn love through overgiving, it's not brokenness; it's adaptation. It doesn’t mean you’re too much or too needy; it just means uncertainty feels threatening. Healing requires learning to trust that real love won’t disappear when you stop chasing it.

If you learned to trust others, express your needs, and stay present in connection—it's not luck, it's a reflection of the safety you were shown early on. It doesn’t mean you never struggle; it just means connection often feels safe. You can serve as a healing presence for those who struggle. 

The work of healing is slow. It's frustrating.

But it’s possible. And it’s worth it... because when you heal, you stop hurting yourself and the people you love. You stop confusing distance with safety. You stop running when things get real. Or, you stop exhausting yourself trying to prove you're worthy. You stop confusing anxiety with love. You stop chasing people who never fully choose you.

I thank God that our child has two parents who show up, who don't abandon her, who make sure she knows, despite our own failed love, that she is safe and fully loved.

She can cry in despair and anger. She can be fully herself without shame, and she’ll still be held. That’s how a child grows into someone emotionally strong and secure.

That’s what breaks the cycle. You can break your cycle. You can fully heal. 

*If you experience struggles in your relationships... whether you pull too far too away, or lean in too closely, I highly suggest taking one or all of these quizzes. And take them honestly. Anyone can lie on a test to get a good result. Be honest with yourself, you owe yourself that. Remember, they do not diagnose and can be wrong, but if any of it resonates, work with a therapist to start healing. It'll be worth it. 

The Attachment Project - takes into account ALL your relationships, not just romantic. Page 6 flips the "highly likely" and "not at all likely" scale, so be careful. 

The Personal Development School - super quick, and super... I don't know, not my favorite. Easy to manipulate for the results you want. 

Yourself 1st - this one cost $1.95 to get the results. 

Qualtrics - this one is gathering data for an actual study, so it's very in depth. 

And, of course, you can check out many different real (yes, real) YouTube therapists who discuss this topic.  

Built in Self Protection

Of course, the often disputed question of whether God can – and will, under certain conditions – remove defects of character will be answered with a prompt affirmative by almost any AA member. To her, this proposition will be no theory at all; it will be just about the largest fact in her life. (Twelve & Twelve, Step 6)

I have struggled throughout my life wanting to be perfect. Maybe we're all like that, but sometimes I get the sense I struggle with the illness more than others. 

I always wanted to be the smartest person in the room. I have two bachelors degrees and a masters. I had this subconscious ailment that told me I had to be smart to be loved. I realized about a year into my sobriety journey, that I was seeking outside love, rather than loving myself...and it was never enough. 

I was self-seeking, self-centered, glory-obsessed, approval-seeking, self-aggrandizing, people-pleasing, envious - - - (Not saying I'm not entirely those things now, but I'm getting better). If you didn't see me as perfect, I would lie, distort the truth, mislead, change my persona... all so I could be acceptable in someone else's eyes.

It was exhausting and dark.

Now that I'm on the other side of the downward spiral, things haven't fallen right into place like I thought they would. I still struggle in relationships. I want to bring my best self to everything I do, but of course, I'm human and mess up from time to time. When someone points out a flaw, justified or not, I want to argue and explain why I've done something the way I've done it. 

Bringing my concerns and the hurt I experience to the forefront is still hard. I still minimize my needs. I adjust myself to not inconvenience or potentially hurt the other person. 

I don't know how to cultivate healthy relationships where dialogue flows. I try so hard to express my feelings but back down the minute the person I'm telling offers a rebuttal. 

I'm on this proverbial teeter-totter a lot: "do I express my discontent? "Do I just try to expect the best from people?" "Do I let things slide?" "I'm being taken advantage of if I do?" "What do I do?" 

It's no wonder I drank - the alcohol took it all away, pushed it down deep within. It would then allow me to unload on people when I couldn't hold it in anymore.

The first piece of wisdom I heard tonight: "We all have built-in self-protection." We don't like to be hurt and in our unhealthy states we rely on our shortcomings (character defects). When I feel hurt, I immediately try my best to adjust myself and be perfect for you (people pleasing). I start to forget who I am (dishonest toward myself) and become restless, irritable, and discontent. 

And then I shut down.

The second piece of wisdom I heard tonight: Being upset with each other and arguing, isn't a big deal - it's not about getting it right, it's about not being ruined when I don't get it right. It's about not taking ourselves so seriously. If we step back we begin to see that we're just tweaking things in our lives. 

Life is a series of little tweaks along the way. So long as we can show up for each other, hear each other, and try to do our best. In those difficult moments, when we confront the moments of tweaking with hearts open and grace (even when we don't like what we're hearing) we can push past the darker parts of ourselves (character defects) and grow. 

Unmanageability: a constant state of chaos

Whoa, 7 months since I last wrote??? Yikes, where has my brain been? Mostly on a pink cloud, taking a break from the serious. 

It confounds me why I can't seem to balance the pink cloud La La Land with my deep spiritual instincts. It's not that the instincts go away, but I tend to overshadow them by focusing on the La La. Much of it has to do with the fact that from August to December, my spiritual focus was inundated with a job that brought me no joy. La La Land was a good distraction. During December, however, I was able to strike a balance... because I wasn't working in the mundane anymore and started focusing on ministry again. 

Ministry brings me so much joy, but sometimes that joy turns into obligations... unmanageability: a constant state of chaos. 

So, back to December: striking the balance, unraveling the chaos. 

I started reading with intention again - and friends, I have found my spirituality is tied to my deep love of reading. It's in reading where my brain starts to connect with the divine, and I feel the abundance of God fill me. It enables me to write and perceive the world more effectively. Alongside the La La, it is remarkable... 

So, enough ellipses... here's where my thoughts are for those who care to continue!

I receive a daily meditation from the Enneagram Institute. The Enneagram is a personality profile index, kind of like Myers-Briggs, or even Human Design. It breaks down personalities into 9 types based on a person's beliefs, values, and motivations. My personality type is 7, in the church world we call it a Joyful personality, or in the secular world, the Enthusiast. According to the Enneagram Institute, a joyful personality is characterized by busyness, fun-seeking, spontaneity, versatility, distractibility, and scatteredness. 

If you know me personally, you know this is pretty accurate. Like most people, when I am emotionally healthy, these characteristics work to my advantage, when I am unhealthy, I am unfocused. Unmanageable and in a constant state of chaos.

There are all kinds of free tests you can take, but I recommend these two paid ones. My personality has never fluctuated when I've taken these two. Enneagram Institute or WEPPS

Our personalities can be seen as having varying levels. One day your fun-loving personality is maximized at it's highest level organizing a party with purpose, delegating where necessary, and infusing the process with organization creating an enjoyable experience for all. A week later, you're at your bottom level, trying to clean your home, but never really finishing a task before moving on to the next, and then claiming yourself as pathetic and worthless. These are extremes, there is a balance where the chaos in unraveled. 

Our personalities are linked to our egos. The ego is the part of our personality that manages our basic urges and our learned morals. The unhealthier we are the more our egos take over and start to protect us, but generally through unhealthy means, unless we are emotionally mature. 

For example: Someone with a substance abuse disorder will numb feelings of inadequacy with their substance of choice. A person who is in recovery may fall back into their character defects if they are not working a program, or working with someone outside themselves, like a therapist, or clergy person. 

If one of your character defects is say, jealousy, perhaps if you are jealous of somebody or something, you disconnect, go into your head, and ignore the situation, take out your feelings on someone or something else. That isn't a healthy way to respond. It's harmful not only to the person you're taking it out on, but also to yourself. This is the ego unhealthily at work, unchecked, unmanaged, in a state of chaos, grasping at straws.

When the ego is healthy at work, we rely less on harmful strategies. We learn to let go of the jealousy, arrogance, lying, people, whatever our main character defect is, we ask questions, and look at things from a different perspective. We consciously choose to look at things from a variety of angles. This is what is called in 12-step programs, letting go and letting God take over for us. When we let go, we become freer and more flexible. Our relationships improve. We become less critical and see the blessings God provides. 

The unmanageability of our chaotic lives dissipates. And you begin to, as Bill W. says, "trudge the Road of Happy Destiny."

Keep doing the work, friends! Grace and peace!

What is Your Major Malfunction?

I receive a daily reflection from the Enneagram Institute. 

Briefly, the enneagram is a personality test. It helps describe the pattern of how we interpret the world and manage our emotions. There are nine distinct personality types. Of course, as with all personality systems, we have a little bit of each in us, but one tends to dominate. 

I am a 7 on the Enneagram, The Joyful or Enthusiast Personality. 

From the Enneagram Institute website:

Sevens are extroverted, optimistic, versatile, and spontaneous. Playful, high-spirited, and practical, they can also misapply their many talents, becoming over-extended, scattered, and undisciplined. They constantly seek new and exciting experiences, but can become distracted and exhausted by staying on the go. They typically have problems with impatience and impulsiveness (self-seeking and self-centered, for sure). At their Best: they focus their talents on worthwhile goals, becoming appreciative, joyous, and satisfied.

Our basic fear: of being deprived and in pain

This is me, 1000000% me. I am that person who wants to be at every function, wants to go to every coffee date, wants to go on every float trip, every Fourth of July celebration, I have broken up with people because I might miss out on the next person who was interested in me (not now, but definitely in my twenties), I pack my days into task after task...

It makes sense that I would convince myself that I can work two jobs, be a mom, do karaoke every other week, and be in a play! 

What is your major malfunction? What did all that do? It sent me straight to the hospital.

Today's teaching from the Enneagram Institute slapped me across the face:

Teaching:

It is an extremely common tendency to flee from what we are actually facing into our imagination, romanticizing or dramatizing our situation, justifying ourselves, or even escaping into “spirituality”. Staying with our real experience of ourselves and our situation will teach us exactly what we need to know for growth. (The Wisdom of the Enneagram, 346)

I am a master of all those things, especially when I feel like I'm missing out on something. I devolve into this fantasy world where I am capable of all things, but I am not God. I am not limitless; I have a limit, and I have reached it! I had a headache for seven days, and yesterday I went to the ER. I thought perhaps there was more because I started shaking and my left eye was fluttering. They did all the tests, even a CT scan. Diagnosis: headache. I can't wait for the bill. Yay!

But here's the problem... as I sat in the dark room in the ER, my inner critic went to work, "you are so lazy, why do you feel you need this attention?" 

Seriously? I overworked and overwhelmed myself to the point of exhaustion, and my alcoholic brain still wants to convince me I am worthless, and if I want to be worthy, I need to do more??? It's like I'm addicted to my toxic inner critic. 

The second part of the line from the quote above is helpful today:

Staying with our real experience of ourselves and our situation will teach us exactly what we need to know for growth.

So here’s what's up: I can't pretend I can handle it all anymore. No more spinning stories to make the pain look like something noble or exciting. I’ve run myself into the ground trying to outrun the discomfort of rest (crazy, I know). The truth caught up to me in the form of a hospital bed and a pounding headache that wouldn’t quit. I had to see the situation for what it was.

Growth doesn’t come from doing more, loving someone new, or pushing through as if nothing’s wrong. It comes from staying put, right in the mess, in the pain, in the truth. I must stop avoiding the fact that I have limitations. That’s where the healing begins.

Want to know what your enneagram number is? Take the test here. It does cost money, but it's a good one.