Posts in Tag

compassion

*Note: This post was shared on another platform I write for a couple weeks ago. I hope you enjoy this re-share. I’m not shy about sharing my mental health experiences because I don’t believe mental illness should be stigmatized. Stigma stands in the way of progress. It prevents understanding and limits access in varied situations. Stigma also breeds fear. An example is the way popular media has applied the idea of “bad” to specific religious practices or groups, vilifying them in the public eye. What I’m saying is it’s important

Some traumas have straightforward recoveries attainable with simple goals and actions, such as cleaning and dressing a minor wound. Others cut more deeply and take enormous strength to overcome. Here is my process of healing: write, release, recover. TW: sexual assault, disordered eating The Battle for Control in Response to Trauma When I was 13, I was sexually assaulted by one man, had it attempted by another, my boyfriend was coerced to dump me by the man who attacked me, I was overweight due to an injury, and my family life offered little solace. My

by Emily Nehus Today started a little late, because I set my alarm for 6 PM. This happens every so often, but today I compounded it by rushing through the making of pancakes. Never, never rush the making of pancakes. I burnt the cast iron griddle, and the stainless steel frying pan, and finally managed to cook my son’s breakfast on the cast iron skillet. It was that kind of morning. Dashing out an hour later, I grabbed my new favorite hat, crammed it on my head, and bolted for

I cannot recall what prompted me to write this post originally. I am happy to say since its conception I have become better at trusting others. It isn’t easy to expose my vulnerabilities, but it has proven worth the effort more often than not and even when relationships go off-script into uncharted, painful territory. There is much we can learn about ourselves by considering our reactions. I am resharing this because it had a very positive reception–several thank you emails appeared in my inbox in response.  As we move deeper

Intentional coach, writer and speaker Alexis Donkin has been a profound resource in my personal healing. Our relationship began over a year ago when we connected over writing and shared interests. I read her memoir, Thrive, and found myself in her story. I was inspired by her practical approach to transforming odds into evens, so to speak. She has a rounding off outlook on life that is effected through the realization and reframing of negatives into positive growth points. I had the pleasure of a face-to-face chat with her via

I have been hard at work on my dreams of late. I had the opportunity to apply for an award related to those dreams, but in order to do so, I had to state concisely what I do and what I’m working toward. Hmm. I tend to be long-winded, so I sat with a few individuals who know my work well and asked them what they thought about what I am doing. I told them what I thought about what I am doing. What I came away with was a

Boundary setting is the greatest skill I’ve learned. I used to live raw with zagging, undefined edges. I was open, and I am still open, but I existed open in a way that left bits of me trailing in every footpath. Because I was warm, I had hangers on that trampled me. I was a bleeding bruise, always hurt because I never closed up my skin for just me to live in. Empathy only works if we mark a bit off for ourselves. In the last 10 years I’ve learned

Telling people how to parent seems to have gone viral since the tragic loss of Harambe the Gorilla. The internet wars have begun, and if you are a mother the odds are never in your favor. In America, the language is stacked against women when it comes to responsibility. Mothers are far more judged than men, our every move micro-assessed when our actions don’t line up with the expectations for the perfect parent. We not only need to keep our kids safe, we need to keep them busy, intellectually stimulated,

Half the battle is drawing the lines the other half is deciding which side to occupy which space not to share which lines to scuff even erase I used to stack my lines until I built up shaking walls surprised when they collapsed I was tumbled over a squiggly burial ground I ceased My finger, that toe, my nose- the part doesn’t matter just that they broke off one at a time until I was so much blood gritty remains I’m trying to say something some grand statement a meaningful,

[Image description: A rainbow arcing over the words #yesallgenders set on a white background. Beneath is a blue background which reads “The Honeyed Quill and On the Verge with Shareen Mansfield all peoples and all genders regardless of presentation, identification or orientation. We believe the change that makes our world a better place starts with saying yes. Join us.” Accompanied by links to honeyquill.com and onthevergewithshareenmansfield.com.]

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