drglenndoyle

Rules and investments in trauma recovery.

You’re going to need some new “rules” for this “trauma recovery” thing in the past than you’ve had for yourself in the past. 

I’m not talking about “rules” other people have laid down for you. You’ve had enough of those. 

I’m talking about “rules” that you choose, for your reasons— that keep you on the rails in your trauma recovery, toward your goals, aligned with your values. 

Because they’re your rules, it’s not up to me to tell them to you. I can only make suggestions. 

But here’s a strong suggestion I have for a rule: no more investing in people or situations without a reasonable expectation of a return on that investment. 

CPTSD tricks us into making bad energetic investments. 

It tricks us into believing in people and ideas that are not worth our belief. 

It tricks us into staying in relationships that have hurt us, not supported us. 

CPTSD tricks us into believing that we don’t have the “right” to expect things from people and situations. 

An example I hear every day is survivors who need specific things from their relationships with their therapists or other health care professionals, but who aren’t getting those things— but who have been convinced that their lack of return in those relationships is “probably” their fault. 

(This actually happens an awful lot.) 

Over and over again, we make investments of various kinds— energetic, social, financial, even spiritual— in relationship partners, health care providers, and spiritual mentors…and when those investments do not pay off, we blame ourselves. 

This is part and parcel of a very common trick Trauma Brain pulls on us— that “everything is our fault and everything is our responsibility” BS (Belief System). 

Breaking out of this pattern requires us to switch up our personal rules. 

We need to yeet the old rule of “I don’t have the right to make changes when I’m not getting what I need.” 

And I suggest replacing that old rule with the new rule of, “I only continue investing when there is a realistic, identifiable return on that investment in a reasonable time window.” 

What does this mean? 

This means you don’t have to stay in relationships of any kind— including therapy or other health care relationships— that are not meeting your needs. 

This means you don’t have to keep having conversations with people who are committed to not understanding or considering your point of view. 

This means you don’t have to keep investing in a specific religion or spiritual identity if engaging with it only makes you feel like garbage, and doesn’t bring you demonstrably closer to the God of your understanding. 

A perspective that has served me well in trauma recovery is, everything I pay attention to is an investment. It’s an investment of my focus, my time, and my energy— all things that, as a trauma survivor working my recovery, I have to be very selective with. 

If I’m going to make certain investments of focus, time, and energy, they need to pay off. After all, you and I, as survivors in recovery, do NOT have an unlimited reservoir of ANY of those things. 

Add to that the fact that if you and I, as survivors working our trauma recovery, allow ANY of those investments to go on auto pilot, Trauma Brain will cheerfully steer all of them in directions that make us feel like garbage and kneecap our recovery…you begin to see the importance of being unapologetically picky when it comes to our investments. 

So: your rules in trauma recovery are your rules. A BIG part of recovery is how the rules you devise and adhere to differ from the rules laid down for you by your bullies and abusers. 

Your rules are going to reflect your needs and wounds— which is why they have to be so individual to you. 

But in my experience, a good place to start is rules around what you will and won’t invest in— especially over time, especially after you have lots and lots of data about who and what will “pay off” if invested in long term. 

Thank you for the investment of time and focus you made in reading this post. 

Now go out and make some other good recovery investments today. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Getting our poop in a group.

The people you think have their sh*t together, don’t feel like they have their sh*t together. 

Trauma Brain— the internalized voices of our bullies and abusers— is particularly good at telling us we don’t have our sh*t together. 

This is true whether or not we especially have our sh*t together. 

I guarantee, you could be the most advanced, most accomplished get-sh*t-done champion of the world, and Trauma Brain would list 1,473,992 reasons why you don’t have your sh*t together— and why you should feel like garbage about it. 

The reality is, we’re all actually at various stages of having our sh*t together. 

Some of us very much have our sh*t together in some areas our lives— but our sh*t goes wildly off the rails in other areas. 

The areas in which we do or don’t have our sh*t together tend to mirror our trauma wounds. 

For example, many trauma survivors tend to be enormously emotionally intelligent— but many of us struggle to make relationships work.

That’s not “evidence” that that emotional intelligence is illusory— it’s probably evidence that there may be a complex trauma wound there. 

Similarly, many trauma survivors are incredibly “book smart”— but many of us seem to struggle with making decisions and anticipating consequences. 

That’s not “evidence” that we’re “stupid”— it’s probably evidence that CPTSD may be f*cking with our executive functioning. 

There are dozens and dozens of examples like this: trauma survivors who are smart and strong, and who have our sh*t together in some life domains, inexplicably struggling to have our sh*t together and “adult” in other domains. 

The world around us often likes to explain that disparity in terms of our “maturity” or “motivation” or “character.” 

But what’s actually going on is, the “holes” in our functioning are pointing to where our wounds are. No more; no less. 

CPTSD’s ability to make us feel like we don’t have our sh*t together, and Trauma Brian’s skill and enthusiasm for being the living snot out of us for it, is one of the hardest things for many trauma survivors to handle. 

We can handle being wounded, though we don’t love it. 

But we really, really hate feeling incompetent. 

(This is especially true if we were “parentified” kids in our family, and our identity was formed around having our sh*t together at an earlier age than we actually should have had our sh*t together.)

When you experience that shame and frustration at not having your sh*t together, remember that you’re probably doing better than you think you are— and you’re certainly doing better than Trauma Brain is letting you believe. 

No, you’re not doing perfectly. No, you don’t have your sh*t together in every way.

But you’re certainly not the train wreck CPTSD is trying to convince you you are. 

You’re like all of us: a work in progress, with strengths, weaknesses, wounds, and possibilities. 

Do not fall into the trap of trying to punish or shame yourself for those areas in which you don’t have your sh*t together. 

After all: even if you don’t have your sh*t together in certain ways, GIVING yourself sh*t isn’t the strategy for changing that. That just gives you MORE sh*t to try to manage, and if you’re already mismanaging your sh*t, where does that leave you? 

I’d like to take this opportunity to welcome new readers to the Dr. Glenn Patrick Doyle Facebook community, where trauma recovery meets colorful metaphors. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

We’re Not Gonna Take It.

Leveling up in trauma recovery often involves defining, clearly and emphatically, what we’re done tolerating. 

If you look at your life, chances are any time it’s significantly changed for the better involved a decision to no longer tolerate something. 

Sometimes what we’re no longer tolerating has to do with somebody else. We’re done tolerating their condescension, their disrespect, their neglect. 

Other times what we’re no longer tolerating has to do with our own behavior. We’re done talking to ourselves like our bullies and abusers talked to us. We’re done harming ourselves. We’re done neglecting our physical health. 

This tool— getting clear and consistent about what we will no longer tolerate— stems in no small part from the post traumatic “fight” response. 

What is the “fight” response? 

Ultimately, it’s our nervous system saying, “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore.” 

Our “fight” response is akin to our “parts” banding together and saying, “Aw, hell no.” 

One of the reasons I think the “fight” trauma response gets such a bad rap is, we survivors have super mixed feelings about aggression in general. 

Often we’ve had terrible experiences with people who cannot regulate their aggression or anger. 

We associate aggression with pain and lack of control— and we assume our “fight” response might make us like those scary, dysregulated people who hurt us. 

Nothing could be further from the truth. 

Yes, sometimes our “fight” response manifests aggressively— but just as often, it manifests protectively. 

Our “fight” response is the engine of most of the boundaries we set in trauma recovery. 

Our “fight” response allows us to tap into energy and focus we just can’t access when we’re cool, calm, and collected. 

And, of course, our “fight” response fuels our commitment to no longer tolerate things that are toxic to our recovery or our life. 

What you’re going to find, as you work your trauma recovery, is that there truly is a place for every trauma response we can experience. 

We don’t have to deny, disown, or ignore any of them. 

Trauma responses don’t actually cause us the biggest problems when they get triggered— they cause us the biggest problems when we try to deny or disown them. To run from them, to shame them. 

If you had the tools and support, what would you no longer be willing to tolerate in your life, starting today? 

What would make nudging toward setting a boundary with that thing .01% more realistic today? 

Now go listen to “We’re Not Gonna Take It” by Twisted Sister, and repeat as necessary. 

Doctor’s orders. 

(Of course that’s a joke, but that is what I’m going to do.) 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Come for it all.

Come for everything they said you couldn’t have. 

You’ve hard that motivational phrase, right? I didn’t originate it, I’ve seen it quite a few places. 

But it has particular resonance for CPTSD survivors. 

We have very often been told we “can’t” have things. 

That we don’t “deserve” things. 

That we’ll have to give up our “victim mindset” and make better “choices” before we’ll even be supposedly eligible for those things. 

Now, don’t get me wrong: mindset certainly matters in trauma recovery, and I’m all for making better choices, always. 

But I’ve worked with hundreds of trauma survivors in recovery, and I can assure you: “mindset” and “choices” are not their— our— biggest problems in recovery. 

Some CPTSD survivors were told, when they leave painful relationships or situations, that we’ll “never make it” without our abusers and bullies. 

(No, really: some of us were literally told just that, in those words.) 

So, my advice is: come for it. 

Come for it all. 

Come for everything they said was out of your reach. 

Come for everything that you ever imagined was off the table for you. 

Don’t let shame stop you, don’t let fear top you, and abso-f*cking-lutely do not let the internalized voices of abusers and bullies from the past stop you. 

You are absolutely “eligible” for a better life. 

You’re honestly “eligible” for a much better life than you would probably have ever imagined, had you not been introduced to the trauma recovery paradigm. 

I would never, ever wish trauma on anyone, and I am emphatically not “grateful” for what you or I have endured. 

But truthfully, if I hadn’t had to save my own life by getting serious about trauma and addiction recovery, I probably would have slept on such basic tools as self talk, mental focus, and physiology for the rest of my life. 

I probably would have remained a random white dude with middling aspirations and moods I could not predict or influence, like most random white dudes. 

However: things unfolded as they did. 

And here I am. 

Coming for everything they said I couldn’t have. 

And here I am, recommending you aspire to do the same. 

They don’t get to choose or limit what we “get” to achieve. Or feel. Or become. 

Working our trauma recovery and building a life can be hard, and is often not straightforward. And we’re very often doing this functionally alone. 

There are no guarantees in recovery, or in life. 

But I can tell you this: if you’re reading this, you’ve very likely been sold a bill of goods about what you do and don’t “deserve.” 

And it’s most likely BS (Belief Systems—but also, you know, bullsh*t) 

Come for it. 

Come for everything they said you couldn’t have. 

We are not who they they think we are— we are golden. 

Breathe. Blink. Focus. 

drglenndoyle

“Coercion” can be more than just physical.

Because you were not physically threatened, doesn’t mean you weren’t coerced. 

Because no one had a physical gun to your head doesn’t mean you made a “choice.” 

Because your body responded doesn’t mean you “wanted” or “enjoyed” it. 

You’re going to run into many people who have a very narrow definition of “force” or “coercion.” 

They are going to assume that if there wasn’t physical force or threat directly involved, then behavior must have been a free “choice.” 

These are the people who are going to ask you “why didn’t you just leave?”

They’re the same people who will say, “why didn’t you just set a boundary?” 

They’re the same people who say, “if you hated it so much, why did you repeat the pattern, over and over and over again?” 

That worldview has nothing to do with reality. 

That worldview has everything to do with those peoples’ wishes that reality be that simple. 

You see, if reality was that simple, those people would feel safer. 

They don’t like the idea that we can be forced to do things in ways that have nothing to do with physical coercion. 

They don’t like for example, the fact that true, unforced “choice” only actually exists if all the alternatives are survivable. 

That is to say: if someone “chooses” something because the alternative was not survivable, they haven’t really made a “choice.” 

Those people also don’t like the fact that there are types of survival in addition to physical survival. 

Sometimes we may “choose” something not because our physical life is in danger, but because the alternative was not realistically survivable socially, financially, or even spiritually. 

The actual fact of the matter is, there are dozens of ways to make human beings do things that do not involve threats to physical survival. 

Pretending that physical threat or coercion is the only way “choice” can be taken away from us opens the door to us feeling shame about many things we “chose” for the sake or survival along the way— but which, upon examination, were not actually “free” choices. 

I get it: you don’t love some of the things you did once upon a time. Neither do I. 

We don’t have to love all our “choices.” 

But we also don’t have to pretend all of those choices were truly “free.” 

You and I did plenty of things to survive— again, not just physically— that don’t particularly align with our values or self-concept now. And again, we don’t have to love that. 

But we don’t have to hold those “choices” against ourselves, either. 

We can realistically and self-compassionately acknowledge the truth: that we were forced to do sh*t we don’t love and wouldn’t “freely” choose. 

I know, that can feel helpless. And many people would rather feel ashamed than helpless. 

I’m going to ask you to sit with the helplessness that comes with acknowledging we haven’t, actually been “in control” of our “choices” for a very long time. 

That’s not an excuse. That’s reality. 

And that’s the starting point to actually making some real, values-congruent choices: forgiving ourselves for not being as “in control” as we thought we were. 

Easy does it. None of this is easy. 

And, we deserve a recovery that restores our autonomy and dignity. No matter what “choices” we did or didn’t have in the past. 

Breathe; blink; focus.  

drglenndoyle

“Needy” is not an insult. Or it shouldn’t be, anyway.

Yes: as we work our trauma recovery, we will get better at identifying and expressing our needs. And that’s awesome. 

It’s also not a guarantee others will be at all interested in meeting our needs. 

Unfortunately, there’s no magic to expressing our needs. I wish there was. 

But we’re going to run into plenty of people who just don’t care. 

Not everyone, mind you. We’ll also run into people who will be supportive and invested. 

But we want to be realistic. That won’t be everyone. 

Does that mean there’s no point to expressing our needs? 

No, it does not. 

Identifying and expressing our needs is vital to our self-esteem. 

Identifying and expressing our needs is important to our self-respect. 

Identifying and expressing our needs is necessary to identify the subset of people who actually WILL help us get our needs met. 

If there’s anything you take away from my writing about trauma recovery, it’s that recovery needs to be realistic and sustainable. 

That means we can’t be hanging on to fantasies that the world is kinder than it is. 

The world is not kind. 

But some people in the world can be kind. 

It may not be the case that we’ll have people lining up to help us get our needs met, even if we identify and express those needs. 

But it is the case that if we’re going to realistically recover from CPTSD, WE need to be in touch with those needs—especially if years of abuse and neglect have made us believe we “can’t” or “shouldn’t” be clear and expressive about our needs. 

What the hell are our needs, anyway? 

The theory I like about human needs is that there are six basics: predictability, novelty, significance, connection, growth, and contribution. 

In my experience, most human needs reduce to one or a combination of those. 

Abuse and neglect sever our connection with our needs. 

Which leaves us no less “needy”— just less able to make a realistic plan to meet our needs. 

Your needs are not “bad” or “weak.”

“Needy” is not an insult. Or it shouldn’t be, anyway. 

Get clear about what you need. Put words to your needs. 

Not because there’s “magic” to any of this— but because things that matter deserve specificity and expression. 

And make no mistake, your needs matter— because you matter. 

drglenndoyle

Getting real about our black and white thinking.

Trauma survivors can be super vulnerable to black and white thinking. Ask me how I know. 

We can really struggle with seeing shades of grey— especially in what we feel or what we do. 

If we f*ck up, Trauma Brain is often right there telling us we “always” f*ck “everything” up— and maybe we don’t deserve to live because of it. 

Does that sound dramatic? Well, welcome to Trauma Brain. Where minor f*ck ups are often a slippery slope to “I don’t deserve to take up space and oxygen from actual worthwhile humans.” 

Why are we survivors so vulnerable to black and white, all or nothing thinking? 

It’s often because our patterns of thinking are structured around safety. 

In survival situations— like many of us grew up in— we didn’t have the time or luxury of thinking in shades of grey. 

We had to recognize and respond to threats immediately and empathically— and if something was maybe-or-maybe-not a threat, we had to err on the side of assuming it was dangerous. 

Once that black and white, err-on-the-side-of-assuming-the-situation-is-f*cked thinking becomes our default way of dealing with stressful situations, it’s hard to keep it from taking over our entire operating system— especially if our entire life has consisted of stressful situations. 

One of the reasons why CPTSD is so insidious is, it takes the adrenaline and collapsed focus that could help a human survive a short-lived traumatic stressor, and makes it our entire world. 

Since complex trauma often doesn’t have a clear cut “beginning” or “end”— it was just our life and our relationships, day after day, year after year— our nervous and endocrine systems had no way of knowing it was ever safe to switch off that state of sympathetic activation. 

All of which is to say, when your entire life is a traumatic stress situation, it’s hard to turn off those patterns of trauma responding— including black and white thinking. 

And then, inevitably, that black and white thinking gets turned on ourselves. 

We make one bad decision, and we have an enormously difficult time telling ourselves how we did that thing is how we necessarily do EVERYTHING; and if we’re just the “type” of person who makes sh*tty decisions, according to Trauma Brain, why do we even “deserve” any more chances? 

To people who don’t struggle with CPTSD, all of this might sound insane. 

But black and white thinking will kick our ass up and down the block, especially as we work to develop new patterns of thinking and responding (not “reacting”) in our trauma recovery. 

A place to start is by validating the “part” of us that is really into black and white thinking. 

Telling that “part” of ourselves that the job it did was really important in keeping us alive, and we’re grateful it exists. 

We’re not going to shame or pressure our way out of black and white thinking— those are the kind of self-punitive patterns that got us into this mess to begin with. 

Just start noticing when you’re diving deep into that rigid, all or nothing style of thinking, especially in your self talk. 

Then start taking a step back and asking some Recovery Supporting Questions (RSQ’s) about whether that rigid, emphatic thing you just told yourself might be “spiked” by Trauma Brain— and what a more realistic, self-compassionate version of that that statement might be. 

Yes, this is tedious work. It’s a pain in the ass. We’re trying to uproot and recondition patterns that had years to nestle deep into our nervous and endocrine systems. 

Don’t let anyone tell you confronting and shifting your black and white thinking is supposed to be easy. 

But also don’t let anyone tell you shifting your patterns of thinking, feeling, and behaving is impossible, either. 

You are not the one human who has an unchangeable nervous system— even at your age. 

Start out with validation and noticing. 

This is how we realistically change how we experience the world and ourselves. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Remember Truman.

Nobody can “make” us give up on trauma recovery. 

They can try. 

They can create circumstances that make it very, very hard for us to be patient and self-compassionate and grounded, as we need to be to realistically work our trauma recovery. 

They can distract us. 

They can try to hijack our focus. 

They can try to influence our self-talk. 

They can try to deprive us of resources we need to manage our physiology. 

They can do all kinds of things that can make it hard as hell for us to stay focused on our goals and values, the future we’re trying to create. 

But they can’t “make” us give up. 

They can’t “make” us harm ourselves. 

They can’t “make” us kill ourselves. 

Understand: it is not, in any way, shape, or form, “easy” to stay committed to our trauma recovery when a person or institution is out to make us feel like garbage. 

I’m not minimizing the massive influence others can have on us. That’s real. 

I’ll never tell you, as some therapists might, that no one can “make” you feel anything. Other peoples’ behavior can make it ENORMOUSLY easy to feel certain feelings, and ENORMOUSLY difficult to feel anything else. That’s real. 

But I will tell you: no one can “make” us surrender in our head. 

No one can “make” us decide that trauma recovery is not worth it. 

No one can “make” us give up on our “parts” and inner child. 

This post isn’t some bullsh*t toxic positivity “you control everything about your experience” spiel. Obviously other people can exert such an influence on our experience, that in no realistic way are we “choosing” what to feel in those moments. 

And let’s be clear about the fact that certain people very much want us believing, at the core of our being, that they CAN “make” us give up. 

But they can’t. 

And that’s why we’re going to win. 

Remember that scene at the end of “The Truman Show” where Truman, determined to sail his boat to the edge of his world, is buffeted by heavy storms sent by the “director” of the show, who is equally determined to drown him? 

We are Truman. 

And, like Truman, we’re not giving up— no matter how intense and scary the storm. 

(Believe me: I understand exactly how intense and scary the storm can get. I’m not guessing. I know what you’re up against.)

Breathe. Blink. Focus. 

And remember Truman. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma recovery is self-reconnection.

CPTSD tries to cut us off from ourselves. 

I know that might sound strange, but that’s the bottom line of what it does. 

CPTSD tires to drive wedges between the “parts” of us, such that we’re not in touch, we’re not collaborating, and we’re not caring for or about those “parts” of us. 

We’re not making a “choice.” It’s programming, conditioning. 

This is almost impossible to explain to someone who doesn’t struggle with CPTSD, but many survivors reading this know exactly what I mean. 

That sense of self-alienation. 

That sense of not feeling like yourself, for no discernible reason. 

That sense that there are “parts” of us that hold and need things—but which we can’t quite access, and we’re never sure why. 

It can all sound “crazy” to a non-CPTSD survivor. 

But for survivors, dissociation, depersonalization, and derealization are often everyday occurrences. 

They often occur so regularly that we don’t even register them as particularly unusual or remarkable events. 

Dissociation happens when we’re reflexively, involuntarily removed from, cut off from, distanced from, or made unaware of something we feel, need, remember, or otherwise experience. 

Depersonalization is when we don’t feel like ourselves. We know we ARE ourselves— but we don’t feel real. 

Derealization is when the world around us doesn’t feel real. When we feel floaty, or as if everything is unfamiliar, strange, or overwhelming. 

All of these are more common experiences for CPTSD survivors than is commonly acknowledged— even by survivors. 

We often don’t acknowledge these things because we don’t love them. They’re disorienting and inconvenient and sometimes scary. 

And, not for nothing, we sometimes don’t even realize we’re experiencing them in the moment. 

(That’s kind of the problem with symptoms that f*ck with our sense of presence and reality.) 

It all comes back to CPTSD trying to alienate us from ourselves— from our memories, our emotions, our needs, and even our physical reality. 

Realistic recovery from CPTSD always involves reconnection— first and most importantly, with ourselves. 

It always involves rediscovering who we are and what’s authentic and essential to us. 

We are simply not recovering while remaining splintered and scattered and floaty. We have a life to live here.

That’s NOT to say recovery from CPTSD (or DID, for that matter) involves “parts” going away— quite the opposite, actually. 

What recovery DOES involve is lowering the barriers between “parts.” 

It DOES involve giving “parts” opportunities to support each other. 

It DOES involve us being as grounded in the current moment as much as possible— not because the current moment is always great (sometimes the current moment absolutely sucks), but because right here, right now, is where we have our power, our autonomy, our wiggle room. 

CPTSD must fail to divide and conquer us from within. 

We need to have a united internal front— and an internal environment in which “parts” know, without a shadow of a doubt, that they are wanted, needed, listened to, and protected. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

drglenndoyle

Become unrecognizable.

One way I think about trauma recovery is, it’s the process of becoming unrecognizable to our abusers, our bullies, and people who knew us when we were going through the worst of it. 

It’s not that there’s anything wrong with who we were. 

It’s that this project, trauma recovery, is about rebuilding ourselves, from the ground up, at the level of identity. 

We can have all the empathy in the world for who we were then. 

In fact, it’s really important we not blame or shame the person we were then. 

And but also, we need to move on from them. 

Not “abandon” our past self— but evolve beyond them. 

The psychological research tells us over and over again that change “sticks” when we incorporate it into our identity. 

It also tells us over and over again that change does NOT stick when we hold on to our old identity. 

For example: quitting an addiction, like smoking, tends not to “take” as long as one thinks of oneself as a smoker who is trying not to. 

But when one shifts their identity, so one does not think of oneself as any kind of smoker anymore, when smoking becomes something so foreign to their identity that they wouldn’t even think about picking up? That’s when quitting “takes.” 

The same can be said of any time we try to significantly change what we believe, what we feel, and what we do. We can’t think of ourselves as the same-old-person-who-is-trying-to-change. 

We need to shift our identity. 

And then we need to talk to and behave toward ourselves as if our new identity is set in stone. 

All of which is to say: trauma recovery is not about staying the same person and trying to make some tweaks. 

It’s about reformatting our own hard drive. 

The reality is, trauma has ALREADY reformatted our hard drive. It’s ALREADY shaped and shifted who we are, on the identity level. 

Trauma recovery is about us taking that power and autonomy back. 

It’s about “brainwashing ourselves”— with ideas and beliefs that we choose, in the service of an identity that feels chosen and authentic to us. 

That is to say: becoming unrecognizable. 

Understand, your mileage may vary. All I can speak to is the ideas and frameworks that motivate me, focus me, speak to me, in my trauma recovery. 

I don’t get all that motivated by the idea of making some minor tweaks in how I feel or behave. 

I do get motivated by becoming someone my bullies and abusers would not recognize. 

I get motivated by the idea of reshaping myself so completely that, while I love and accept and forgive my past self, it would be hard to believe I grew into the powerful, autonomous, self-responsible “recovery me” I did. 

Don’t play small. 

Become unrecognizable— and more authentic than you’ve ever been. 

Breathe; blink; focus.