I decided to re-publish one of my favorites. Enjoy.

Hocus Pocus. Abracadabra. Remind you a little of Practical Magic? Witchcraft. Trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Forgive the drama, but unfortunately it’s true. Spells exist. Big spells. Little spells. We live in a world where spells are cast and someone falls prey.

You are probably right now under the influence of more than one spell.

Take a breath—it’s not life threatening. But it is serious. According to Caroline Myss a spell is a mental lock-in. She explained to her Hay House radio listening audience: “What if someone says, ‘You look terrible today?’ You accept the spell. Voilà. You feel terrible all day.”

Mrs. Middleton taught me speech and typing in high school. One day I wore a black t-shirt with jeans to school. She pulled me aside. “Allyn, I must tell you. You look sick when you wear black. Never wear black near your face.” Do I wear black against my face now? Do I have to tell you the answer to that question?

A spell is like a superstition:
“I can’t lose weight.”
“I can’t succeed.”
“I’m stupid.”

Here’s the deal. You have locked into a false belief. FALSE. A superstition. Did a black cat just walk underneath the ladder? Did you break a mirror? You now have seven years of bad luck.

I cringed as I listened to Caroline. Thinking I don’t look good in black. Spell. Believing women over 40 can’t lose weight. Spell.

Here’s what is not a spell: I am five feet, three inches tall. Here’s another … I was born in New Orleans.

Spellcasters don’t have to be witches either. It can be Ms. Middleton, my well-intentioned high school teacher, who was only trying to help. It can be your mom. Your best friend. Your spouse. Spellcasters can have your best interest at heart. Really. Or so they think.

Recently my husband and I attended a school event. We ate lunch with our daughter. Her friend’s parents couldn’t come, and we invited the child to join us. We laughed. Joked. Then it was time to leave.

Later that evening my daughter reported, “Sylvia told me some things about you.” “What?” I asked. You know about curiosity and the cat.

“She said dad is bald and you are a little wide in the hips.” Ouch. Cats are part of spell casting magic. And to think I had been feeling pretty good about my appearance. As much as I tried not to let them, the spell of a nine-year-old girl’s words stung. A child speaks, and I ask, “Are my hips that wide?”

The reality is…spells are cast all the time. Ricocheting from parents, friends, teachers, magazines, movies, commercials, the culture itself—you know, groupthink—and most of us are immediately spellbound.



Hollywood casts spells. TV casts spells. Fashion casts spells. Let’s talk about the popular TV reality show What Not To Wear. Hosts Jillian Hamilton and Clinton Kelly grab unsuspecting victims turned in by friends or family who are only trying to help. Jillian and Clinton give it to them about their lack of fashion sense.

And Jillian and Clinton are NOT nice. They put Little Janie in a room with surround mirrors. Talk about my worst nightmare. They have Little Janie try on her awful clothes and tell her why she looks so terrible. They then send spellstung Little Janie off with $5,000 to get her new look.

When she returns, Janie is told why everything she selected using their rules and expert advice works for her. “See Janie. The flared leg is so much more slimming.” Little Janie, who is now smiling and so pleased with her self, nods in agreement. “Remember those slim cut jeans you used to own. You know the ones we threw in the trash? They made you look 10 pounds heavier.”

Scriiiiitch. Slim cut jeans are back! What does Little Janie do now? Little Janie looks fat in slim cut jeans. The spell has been cast. And the spell has been accepted. How can Janie believe anything else? The famous TV Fashion People told her she looked fat in slim cut jeans.

Even though I don’t know a spell to counter a spell, I do know a place to begin—a way to stop at least one spell. It’s black-t-shirt-buying time. That’s what time it is. And after that it’s time to wear my black t-shirt. And you know what? I’m going to look damn good in it too. Poof. Spell be gone.

Allyn Evans
www.liveapowerfullive.com
www.allynevans.com

Dumpy, Frumpy and Downright Lumpy

“What is it about this place?” I said to my sister who was visiting too.

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Do you feel as frumpy as I do?”

She nodded.

Just a few weeks previously I had been in New York City visiting her. I had even worn the same outfit I was wearing at the moment, except in New York I had dumbed it down a bit. I had added clunky jogging shoes, which I never do unless walking from here to kingdom come.

Also on that particular day I had added a top layer shorter than the under layer. It was colder than I had anticipated and my layering attempts were of a practical nature. Let’s just say that my “look” was interesting.

Not once while parading around the streets of Manhattan, whether in Madison Square, Midtown, SoHo, Chelsea or Greenwich Village did I feel frumpy or out of place or even worse…out of style. As a real test only the Universe can provide, I had proudly walked right past Clinton Kelly of “What Not to Wear” fame. Yes, the addition of the tennis shoes did give me pause as I strutted past him.

But not for one New York minute did I ever feel less than.

Sitting in the mecca of my youth, I felt dowdy, old-fashioned, outdated, oh yes and plain.

In my defense, these are feelings I typically don’t feel anymore. Normally, I don’t find myself sinking into the self-bashing place. As recently as a month ago, I believed I had made significant progress when it came to this self-love, self-acceptance issue. I still think there has been a shift. But obviously, there’s a little more transforming required to put these awful feelings to rest. Of course realizing I still had work to do was most irritating.

An hour later, I found myself in one of the boutiques purchasing new tops. Well, I could easily solve part of the problem.

The next day, members of my family all returned to the offending location. This time we were going to eat lunch. I felt much better. I had on the new top from the “right” store. Ahhhh. The frumps had disappeared. I still berated myself for weighing too much, but that’s a completely different story.

I hadn’t even noticed one of my cousins was wearing a tee-shirt—you know the kind of tee-shirt you wear to sleep in or wear to your child’s baseball game.

She complimented me on what I was wearing and then apologized for her outfit. “I can’t believe I forgot to pack something nice,” she said to me. “But thank goodness this is one of those places where it really doesn’t matter what you wear.”

My sister and I looked at each other. Okay, so we almost choked. Then we laughed.

My cousin. Well, she really meant it. She felt perfectly at home wearing a tee-shirt and jeans. And she also “looked” perfectly fine wearing her tee-shirt and jeans. We got it. Point made. High five the Universe that made it happen.

Turns out we were the fools. We were the ones that allowed our self-doubts and negative chatter to tell us we were somehow less than the “others” around us.

Allyn Evans
http://www.allynevans.com/

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Shoot for the Moon

I love this quotation by motivational speaker, Les Brown: “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars.”

I've used this quotation as a theme for presentations. I recently revisited Brown's words and others while preparing for a presentation I will doing this weekend at the Girl Scout sponsored Teens and Tweens Conference in Edmond, OK.

Here are a few good ones I've heard or read over the years:

1. There are always things you can do to improve your life and your circumstances. Always.

2. Author Richard Carlson tells us: Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff…because it’s all small stuff.

3. Not everyone will like you.

4. Somebody will always be prettier and smarter than you.

5 The greatest gift you can give yourself is to discover your talents, gifts and strengths and then, polish them.

I'll end with another favorite by Shad Helmstetter. "It isn’t the big choices we make that have the greatest impact on our lives; it’s usually the smallest choices we make that affect us the most."

http://www.allynevans.com/
http://www.allynevans.blogspot.com/

Abracadabra. They've Put a Spell on You!

In keeping with the recent theme...

Hocus Pocus. Abracadabra. Remind you a little of Practical Magic? Witchcraft. Trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Forgive the drama, but unfortunately it’s true. Spells exist. Big spells. Little spells. We live in a world where spells are cast and someone falls prey.

You are probably right now under the influence of more than one spell.

Take a breath—it’s not life threatening. But it is serious. According to one of my favorite authors, Caroline Myss, a spell is a mental lock-in. She explained to her Hay House radio listening audience: “What if someone says, ‘You look terrible today?’ You accept the spell. Voilà. You feel terrible all day.”

Mrs. Middleton taught me speech and typing in high school. One day I wore a black t-shirt with jeans to school. She pulled me aside. “Allyn, I must tell you. You look sick when you wear black. Never wear black near your face.” Do I wear black against my face now? Do I have to tell you the answer to that question?

A spell is like a superstition:
“I can’t lose weight.”
“I can’t succeed.”
“I’m stupid.”

Here’s the deal. You have locked into a false belief. FALSE. A superstition. Did a black cat just walk underneath the ladder? Did you break a mirror? You now have seven years of bad luck.

I cringed as I listened to Caroline. Thinking I don’t look good in black. Spell. Believing women over 40 can’t lose weight. Spell.

Here’s what is not a spell: I am five feet, three inches tall. Here’s another … I was born in New Orleans.

Spellcasters don’t have to be witches either. It can be Ms. Middleton, my well-intentioned high school teacher, who was only trying to help. It can be your mom. Your best friend. Your spouse. Spellcasters can have your best interest at heart. Really. Or so they think.

Recently my husband and I attended a school event. We ate lunch with our daughter. Her friend’s parents couldn’t come, and we invited the child to join us. We laughed. Joked. Then it was time to leave.

Later that evening my daughter reported, “Sylvia told me some things about you.” “What?” I asked. You know about curiosity and the cat.

“She said dad is bald and you are a little wide in the hips.” Ouch. Cats are part of spell casting magic. And to think I had been feeling pretty good about my appearance. As much as I tried not to let them, the spell of a nine-year-old girl’s words stung. A child speaks, and I ask, “Are my hips that wide?”

The reality is…spells are cast all the time. Ricocheting from parents, friends, teachers, magazines, movies, commercials, the culture itself—you know, groupthink—and most of us are immediately spellbound.



Hollywood casts spells. TV casts spells. Fashion casts spells. Let’s talk about the popular TV reality show What Not To Wear. Hosts Jillian Hamilton and Clinton Kelly grab unsuspecting victims turned in by friends or family who are only trying to help. Jillian and Clinton give it to them about their lack of fashion sense.

And Jillian and Clinton are NOT nice. They put Little Janie in a room with surround mirrors. Talk about my worst nightmare. They have Little Janie try on her awful clothes and tell her why she looks so terrible. They then send spellstung Little Janie off with $5,000 to get her new look.

When she returns, Janie is told why everything she selected using their rules and expert advice works for her. “See Janie. The flared leg is so much more slimming.” Little Janie, who is now smiling and so pleased with her self, nods in agreement. “Remember those slim cut jeans you used to own. You know the ones we threw in the trash? They made you look 10 pounds heavier.”

Scriiiiitch. Slim cut jeans are back! What does Little Janie do now? Little Janie looks fat in slim cut jeans. The spell has been cast. And the spell has been accepted. How can Janie believe anything else? The famous TV Fashion People told her she looked fat in slim cut jeans.

Even though I don’t know a spell to counter a spell, I do know a place to begin—a way to stop at least one spell. It’s black-t-shirt-buying time. That’s what time it is. And after that it’s time to wear my black t-shirt. And you know what? I’m going to look damn good in it too. Poof. Spell be gone.

http://www.allynevans.com/
http://www.happilyeveraftertoday.blogspot.com/
http://www.thealertparent.blogspot.com/

Beyond Bad Hair

I love to walk into a bookstore and then wait for a book to find me. And you know, 'it' always does. On this particular trip with hubby and daughter in tow, a book titled The Merry Recluse caught my attention. The book is a compilation of mostly reprints from a weekly Boston Phoenix column written by the late Carolyn Knapp. I first experienced Caroline's work when I read Appetites: Why Women Want.

Caroline, like Anne Lamont of Traveling Mercies shares openly the chapters of her life. I mean, she tells it all—good, bad and the ugly, and everything in-between. Caroline had so many demons, but the ones that plagued her the most were food and alcohol. Eventually, Caroline died of cancer in 2002. She was only 42 years old.

The other day, one essay grabbed my attention. Actually, she intended to make us laugh with this one. But as I read it, I wasn't laughing. The words were laced with pain. In “Beyond Bad Hair: Thin Lips, Square Breasts, and Other Horrors" Caroline shares things that plagues most women. She claims having a bad hair day is the least of our worries.

She shared plenty of other examples with us:

*Why-are-these-pants-pinching-me-around-the-waist Day. (Been there, done that.)
*My-lips-are-too-thin Day. (Can’t say that I own that one.)
*Since-when-have-my-pores-been-so-cavernous Day. (Oh, yes … definitely been there.)

Although I don't have all the same thoughts or moments, I do understand what she's saying. And I bet that most women reading her book or this article do too.

My recent beyond-bad-hair-day moments go something like this...

*My-face-is-swollen-and-my-eyes-are-puffy Day
*Where-did-those-new-wrinkles-come-from Day
*When-did-I-start-growing-gray-hair-on-my-arms Day (That happened yesterday.)

Probably the one that tickled me the most was Caroline’s mention of the: Oh-no-I-missed-a-patch-of-hair-on-my-knee Day. Okay, so I seem to have more of those than I care to mention.

And then it slaps me right in the face ... and Caroline has the perfect ending to it all. "God, it's hard to be a girl!" Amen, Caroline. Amen.

It is hard to be a girl. I'm ready to play another game now. So here's to trying especially hard to put this beyond-bad-hair thinking to rest. Really, I'm not listening anymore. Remember what I wrote last week?

Yep, it’s hard to be a girl, but today it just got a whole lot easier. And I’ll be the first to admit I’m SO not there yet, but baby, I’m getting closer with each passing day. Now, that’s something to celebrate.

Oh Where Oh Where Did My Mean Voice Go?

Oh where oh where can She be?

She’s still hanging around, but her power is diffused. Remember, it took me six years to get her under wraps. Here’s hoping that you have a much shorter ride.

Remember it’s not about quieting the mind. In the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying Sogyal Rinpoche says: “By its very nature, the mind cannot be still—cannot be silent. Thus the dichotomy—and the frustration—the creation of another self inflicting weapon of inadequacy.”

What did I do? First I became aware. Yes, it’s been established that I had a Mean Voice—a powerful mean voice—at work in my life. What about you? Did you take the Self-Bash challenge?

Step Two: Create Replacement Statements.

For the mean voice change things like:
"I am stupid" to “Life is all about learning.”
"I am fat" to “I’m making healthy choices now.” If you are not, though, don’t use this one.
Maybe instead say: “Acceptance is the first step.” Or, “I like me.” Or, if you can’t say you love yourself, then you can think more about the function of your body. “My body is my friend.”

The key is choice. Don't grapple with your inner critic. Simply notice her fully, and then choose to redirect your awareness—or not.

Mean Voice taming takes time and effort just like improving your ability to paint or play tennis. The good news is…practice works. If you keep at it eventually the mean voice will be background white noise and you will become an expert in inserting your replacement phrases.

So, it is worth it to take on your Mean Voice? YES. YES. YES.

What’s waiting at the end of this road?

As far as my own personal journey…
Identifying and then taming my own mean voice was the first step I took towards living the life I desired. I slowly, but surely stopped second guessing myself.

When you stop being directed by your mean voice, which can happen I promise, you are happier and more at peace. Stopping the onslaught of negativity meant I could finally have the confidence and COURAGE to move forward towards my own goals and dreams. And I did. With each step I grew stronger and more directed.

Life Coach Sondra Kornblatt claims:
“While your Critic won't disappear, you can change your relationship to it. Instead of being an inescapable wall, you learn to see your Critic as boulders (rocks, stones) in a field. You can move around or climb over them! Your true self finds its flow.”

What’s next? After you clean up your inner critic, then you can begin to tap in to your intuition—you can hone your ability to “hear” your internal guidance and walk the path you were put here to take. Oh, another great topic for later!

Allyn Evans
www.allynevans.com

Self-Bash Test...Double Dog Dare You to Take It!

So what did I do to rid myself of self-bashing? It started with recognition—the recognition that I had a mean voice barking inside my head.

Although I can’t tell you the exact date, I can give you range of time that I made this discovery.

Not sure why, but I remember scenes from the day I took the “Do-You-Self-Bash” test. I can see myself walking through the den to my dining room. My dining room wall had floor to ceiling mirrors.

Every time I made the trek from my den to my kitchen, I walked by the mirrors. And every time I walked by the mirrors, I called myself names. I’d been reading a book, sorry but now I don’t remember the author or title. The author talked about the mean voice. The author asked us to take note of how often our mean voice piped up. Yep, I knew I had one, but I didn’t know how insistent and cruel she was until I took the test.

The test. It was simple. For three days we were asked to pay attention to every time the mean voice spoke—how often and what she said.

It only took me less than one day to realize I had a serious problem. My mean voice barked at me almost every thirty seconds. Yes, every thirty seconds.

Something was terribly wrong with that picture. The year was 2002.

You do the math. It took me six years …

Here’s what I’m hoping. That by sharing what I did and learned, we can cut your learning curve by years. There is no guarantee, but there’s always hope.

Next time we’ll delve deeper into this subject.

I love comments!

www.allynevans.com

Mean Voice Go Away Come Again Another Day

Before I begin the act of telling you how I managed to overcome the mean voice inside my head, I want to share with you something I wrote about five years ago. It's my hope by sharing the story, you might see yourself. If you see yourself, then it is also my hope that you believe the mean voice can be tamed. As I blog on this topic, I'll be talking about how to rid yourself of the meanest person you know — your own Mean Voice.

Okay, so I'm not ready to give you the keys to my journal (oh dear way too private), but I can at least give you a snapshot of how tortured I was by the mean voice.

Here's a short essay I wrote after Christmas one year.

Family photo from 1968...

I love visiting my family. I really do. And the older I am the better it gets. Still plagued by the “mean” voice, though, I’m not completely comfortable once there. My mean voice says things like, “Yep, I knew it. My sister looks better than me. Thin. Able to wear tight jeans.”

Thank goodness with each passing year the mean voice gets less and less attention. And it just so happens that I don't care as much about my physical appearance anymore. Oh this doesn’t mean I’m ready to throw in the towel—no, I still regularly play tennis and walk or jog five times a week.

I’m simply finding contentment. But I say that, and yet I’m still tortured. As I roll out of bed and glance at my hands I say, “Yep, just as I thought…swollen.” I chide myself for failing to remain on the low-carb fare in preparation for the visit. Looking in the mirror, I fuss at my face. “Fat. Yuck. Control yourself. What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you be more like your sister?”

Then, I start with the promises. “Next time. Next time.” And finally I realize how hopeless my optimism is. Suddenly I’m tired and angry. Feeling fat makes me snap—makes me grouchy. But despite the unwelcomed arrival of the mean voice, I still laughed. I still smiled. Better yet, I left feeling more loved than not.

Even with my tortured experience others told me I looked radiant and beautiful. Graciously I accepted, but deep down didn’t believe them. Regardless love and laughter flowed to and from me and all the while I felt a profound connection to many people, some related some not. This week I loved them all and this week I felt they all loved me back—faults, mean voice and all.

Stay tuned. We'll continue on this thread for a little longer.

Nothing Outside My Self Controls Me

So what have I been doing this summer? Mostly I took time off. That’s what I try to do when my daughter is out of school. I did work on finishing the next book in my spare time.
Although what appeared on the surface to be a most unproductive summer I got through the first draft of my manuscript and now am in the middle of rewrites with my editor.

Yes, I did stop and celebrate.

But something even better happened. Do you remember my affirmation about not allowing things outside of my self to control me? If I’d give you the keys to my journal, you’d see that I struggled all summer long with all those things outside of me. I wouldn’t drink Diet Coke, then I would. I wouldn’t drink alcohol, then I would. I wouldn’t eat chips (or all those wonderful tasty “bad-for-you” foods) and then I would.

And if you were holding all my journals, you’d discover I’d been writing about “those things” controlling me for thirty something years. You read right. Thirty something years.

Finally I can say and mean it: “Nothing outside myself controls me,” which has led to an even greater feat—no more self bashing. Again you read right. And a new place of being for me. Ahhh. It feels good. So good.

On the magic day ...What magic day? ... There was no magic day….

It simply happened. Nope. No anniversary date. I can’t tell you at what exact moment “it” happened. And although it might reek of something “happening overnight,” please recall the reference to my journals. NOT.

This releasing has taken many prayers, books, conversations, essays and more prayers. But more than that this releasing took years—many, many years.

In the next few posts, I’ll share what I did including books that have helped me find my way.

But for now, all I want to do is enjoy the remaining days of my summer. Yes, I think I'll take a swim! Happy diving.

Eating A Little Humble Pie

You see it's now time to confess. Things outside of my self still control me. It's the bugaboo haunting me at the moment. Sometimes I win more than others and sometimes I lose even more. It occurs to me as I confess that through my struggles, the best intro for the topic of humility has been found. Because by confessing, you'll find me eating several pieces of humble pie today.

Pull up your chair and join me. Yum. This pie tastes good.

Interestingly, despite my inability to keep my promises to myself lately, I am still not reverting to self-bashing. Now that does feel GOOD. But I am still not winning this inner war. Still things outside of me have power. So far, I have yet to wage a strong enough battle.

Carolyn Myss would tell me to "Get a backbone."

"I hear you, Caroline, I hear you."

My confession demonstrates my weakness. My weakness and confusion could, note the operative word here is "could", lead to humiliation. Could. But it doesn't. It's my choice of whether or not to allow my failure to humiliate me or not. And this time, I am saying no to humiliation. Chalk one up to the school of life. That is what is going on here. Nothing more. Nothing less. Certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

And I can make a new promise—a new vow...I can promise myself that I will keep working. I will not give up. Now, that's a promise I think I can keep.

Let's turn our attention to the lesson for today—humiliation.

The only person who allows you to be humiliated is yourself. Do you get what's being said here? Only we can label something as humiliating or embarrassing. No other person can humiliate us. Yes, they be cruel and unkind. But the decision to be humiliated is ours—and only ours to make.

If you find yourself saying things like, "I am humiliated, or I am so embarrassed," then it's likely you are concerned about opinions of others. The good news is you've found your starting point. Begin making decisions for yourself that are not influenced by what others will think about you. Start focusing on your own internal hunches and acting on your own guidance instead of what you think others would like you do.

Wayne Dyer in his book Power of Intention helps us put the opinions of others into perspective: “You’ll find no shortage of opinions directed at you. If you allow them to undermine your self-respect, you’re seeking the respect of others over your own, then you’re abdicating (handing over) yourself.”

Something else Dr. Dyer shared makes sense. “Your reputation is not located in you. It resides in the minds of others.” He goes on to tell us that we have no control over the mind of someone else. What they think is what they think.

And if we are honest with ourselves, it is humanly impossible to please all the people all of the time. A few years ago, when grappling with this very idea, I had a dream.

In the dream I am sobbing. I am heart broken. I am back in college surrounded by the girls who never liked me. In reality, for one semester I lived with a roommate who disliked me and openly shared her feelings. In the middle of my sobbing, I heard a clap of thunder and a loud voice say, "Allyn you cannot be liked by everyone."

The message was powerful. The message changed my life.

Now the message can also change yours. Do you feel the weight being lifted off your shoulders?

Dr. Dyer said, “Leave your reputation for others to debate; it has nothing to do with you.”
Amen. Wayne. Amen.

Would love to hear your comments. Your thoughts and ideas are helpful to others. I promise!


Allyn Evans
http://www.allynevans.com/
http://www.queenpower.com/
http://www.allynevans.blogspot.com/

Keeping Blankety Blank Promises to My Self

I know. I know. I promised to talk about humiliation this time.

But keeping promises to myself got in the way again. You'll recall, a few posts ago, I talked about this promise-keeping business. I made a vow. And let me tell you, I take vows seriously. While hanging around in an airport, not by choice mind you, I discovered what I thought was a key piece to ending self-bashing once and for all. (To read that post first, click here.)

After that epiphany I made a pledge. Drum roll, please.

I pledged to stay on a health program for thirty days. What I didn't say before is that I also pledged to give up things I love, including Diet Coke. My new mantra explains my desire: "Nothing outside of myself controls me." I didn't want to need caffeine. I didn't want to have to have a Diet Coke for things to be okay (first thing in the morning, at break, at lunch, at...well, you get the picture).

Last weekend, I made a pre-meditated decision to break my promise to myself. I tossed all the rules out the window and purchased the BIG BAD THREE—Diet Coke, alcohol and chips. And my splurge was Fabulous! My Saboteur stepped in and sealed the deal. I had a Diet Coke with my pre-dinner snack of chips. And drank wine with supper. Some of you are thinking so what? The what is I made a promise to not buy or consume the BIG BAD THREE for thirty days. I was working on day number 18. I will not tell you about the following Monday. Let's just say...tennis ladies event, we weren't on the courts and it involved a restaurant.

Before I continue on...I also want you to understand that I believe in moderation and not the complete banning of everything I enjoy FOREVER. It's just that I made this promise. A stupid promise. A promise I now know I couldn't keep.

Okay so here's how the old routine would go after falling off the proverbial wagon, "You suck. You're terrible. You're twisted. What's your freakin' problem?" I'd also throw in a few slams about how I looked too.

I waited. And waited. But the self-bashing never came. Hmmm. I thought this self-loathing business was because I couldn't keep promises to myself. Yep, I definitely broke a promise. Hmmm. Maybe it's not that simple.

This time after walking backwards, I responded differently. My response contains the answer. Instead of calling myself names, I asked questions. "Wonder why I did that? Wonder why I took two steps forward and one step back? What is the trigger? And how do I make it stop? How do I truly step into the idea that nothing outside of myself controls me?"

So what changed?

Then it hit me. I realized, wow, I am still making progress and I am still moving forward in the direction of health. If I looked back to 18 days previously, I was a person who allowed things outside of herself to control her. Fast forward to my new reality. Wow. I don't have to drink Diet Coke all day anymore. My home-made lemonade concoction and plain old fashioned water suit me fine.

I skipped self-bashing, self-loathing and immediately jumped to, "but look...I didn't drink Diet Coke for 18 days. I feel better because I haven't had any alcohol for that long." (Well, it was 18 days without, if you forget the glass of wine I had while in the hot tub.) I even caught myself repeating Scarlett O'Hara. "After all, tomorrow is another day!"

And then came yet another "aha" moment. It was a key piece that I didn't find on my way to Chicago. The key is not to swear away every detail. Don't make proclamations like, "I will NOT do this for this many days." All you are doing is setting yourself up for failure. Instead make sweeping, global, grand promises. Like, "I will make healthier choices." So the vow becomes a general statement..."I will make healthier choices. I will be more loving. I will be more forgiving. I will take action."

The key is the "big picture" statement. Forget perfection. It's the continued practice that moves us in the right direction. Also important are how you classify the "how-to's" like no diet coke, less wine, no chips. The how-to's are the guidelines—not the vow.

That's why I didn't turn to self-bashing this time. I'm still on course to being healthier. For the most part, I am making healthier choices. And now I can say, "Nothing outside myself controls me," and mean it. Yes, I still might want the things I have deemed not healthy, and I will have them occasionally. But I don't have to have them to function. I no longer waste energy thinking about how to get them anymore...when I don't have them.

What's the next step. We keep our promises to ourselves by staying true to the overall objective and by not getting bogged down in the rules (guidelines). And when we take a few missteps (meaning we break a guideline), we stand up dust ourselves off and we continue to keep plugging away by jumping back in the wagon and continuing what we've started.

Next time...we'll tackle humiliation. Now that's a fun one.

Allyn Evans
http://www.allynevans.com/

http://www.queenpower.com/

P.S. We're launching a brand new on-line community for moms and girls this spring. I'll be giving you details soon. It will be much more interactive than QueenPower.com. You'll be able to blog, comment and chitchat on our forums. You'll be able to add photos and video to your personal pages. There will also be the opportunity to organize your own groups within our community. For example, we're looking for someone to run our book club group for moms and daughters. Oh and incase you don't think your computer skills are up for it...you'll be pleasantly surprised. It's very easy to join and use!

For any writers who subscribe to QueenPower.com, we are looking for bloggers on subjects relevant for moms and girls. If you an interest, please email me.

Never Made It to Chicago

It wasn't without trying. I happen to head out on the day that snow covered all the
midwestern states. And ended up having flights cancelled on me until I decided to cut my losses and return home. Yes, I could have eventually made it, but...the decision was made because I needed to arrive by a certain time to not miss too much of the conference I was attending.

So, where was I going?

I was going to a CMED training delivered by my favorite author, teacher Caroline Myss.

What's interesting is that even though I never made it to the workshop, I experienced an epiphany. And I thought I needed a workshop for that!

If you've read my book (Grab the Queen Power: http://www.allynevans.com/), you know that I have experienced my share of self-loathing. The book was about my need to figure out why. Working through the process of writing the book, I did figure it out. This figuring out helped me drop much of the self-bashing, but...and here's the hard thing for me to admit...I have not given up all of it.

I still regularly beat myself up. (You know, monkey mind chatter.) A recent dream brought this message home to me. The dream: I was carrying myself up a stairway upside down and with every step I took my head banged against each step. In another round of dreams one night, a bully followed me around and constantly hit me and yelled at me.

Oh dear. And okay, I get it. But I was confused about how to solve this long-lived problem.

I thought the "cure" was to try to love myself as I am. Don't get me wrong...that is part of it. But, I was missing a key piece and it hit me while people-watching at the Kansas City Airport. My loathing has much more to do with my inability to keep promises to myself.

Aha! The cure for me is to keep the promises I make to myself. This means, I need to make promises I can keep...that I am willing to go the distance to keep. For example, if I am going to lose weight, then I must vow to stick to the program until I reached my goal. If I can't do this, then I need to stop making weak promises and forgive myself. The self-love process starts there. "This is who I am and this is where I'll stay by choice."

My choice (after lots of thought) is to make a promise to myself that I will not break. I have made a vow, which in my mind is more than a promise. From this moment until the next thirty days pass, I will repeat the mantra: "Nothing outside of myself controls me," and I will keep my word to myself.

My inner child (do I really have one of those) is throwing a fit. And I'm certain it's the inner child who always helps me break those promises. "I want. I deserve. Wah!" And it's the same voice I will fight for the next thirty days.

Why are the profound answers always simple? Of course, simple doesn't mean easy.

I have no illusions about that. But, I believe in my heart of hearts that I have finally reached a place where I will be able to keep my promises to myself. I'm tired of the old way. The old way has never worked.

Although I had a hard time enjoying my failed trip to Chicago, sitting in airports for hours is not my idea of fun, I celebrate what the "alone-time" delivered to me.

I am optimistic about this next phase of my life. Stay tuned.

http://www.allynevans.com/