drglenndoyle

Nope: it wasn’t about you.

When I say “it’s not about you,” I’m not asking you to make an “excuse.” 

I’m not asking anyone to deny or disown their role in anything they genuinely had a role in. 

I’m not saying we’re powerless over every situation we find ourselves in. 

But when I say “it wasn’t about you” in reference to how you were treated by your parents or caretakers growing up, that’s literally what I mean: that wasn’t about you. 

We cannot “make” our parents or caretakers do their jobs. 

We cannot “make” someone abuse us. 

We cannot “make” someone neglect us. 

I don’t care if you were the most difficult kid in the world to parent: it was your parents’ responsibility to figure that sh*t out. 

It was emphatically NOT your responsibility to be an “easy” kid for them to raise. 

It was NOT your responsibility to be THEIR parent or caretaker. 

It was NOT your responsibility to figure out how to “make” them love or care or you. 

Some people read stuff like this and say, “Well, that’s OBVIOUS. Why are you saying OBVIOUS things that EVERYBODY knows?” 

Because, believe it or not, there are complex trauma survivors out there who really haven’t internalized this. 

They truly think it was their fault that they weren’t cared for. 

They truly think they were unloved because they were, or are, essentially “unlovable.” 

They truly think the problem was that they were a “difficult” kid to raise, and their parents, who were “just doing their best,” shouldn’t have to bear the blame for the sh*t show that was their childhood. 

If you follow my work, you know I’m not big on “blame.” 

I feel “blame” paradigms unduly center abusers and bullies, instead of the recovery work of survivors. 

But over and over again I encounter survivors blaming themselves, often harshly, for how they were treated growing up. 

I’m not saying kids need “perfect” childhoods. 

I’m not saying parents need to be “perfect.” 

I’m not saying that poor parenting is the only cause of CPTSD. (In fact, I think childhood bullying gets vastly UNDER-discussed in CPTSD spaces in contrast to bad parenting.) 

What I want everyone to understand, though, is that, no matter how you feel about your parents or caretakers, no matter what their situation or challenges were, no matter what they have or haven’t taken responsibility for or apologized for since, it was not on you to accommodate them growing up. 

It was not on you to be their therapist. 

It was certainly not on you to be any kind of “partner” to your parents in any kind of adult sense. 

I don’t care how smart you were. 

I don’t care if you were an “old soul.” 

That sh*t was not on you. Shouldn’t have been on you. 

Adults who turn to children to get needs met that should be meet by other adults, harm children. 

You are not the exception. 

And it wasn’t about you. 

But— letting that go can be a b*tch. 

Give it the time it needs. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma identity and recovery identity.

To me, an unexpected challenge of trauma recovery is keeping our recovery identity top of mind. 

Most of us have been conditioned, sometimes for years, in what can be called our “trauma identity. 

We’ve been sold a bill of goods— about who we are, what we “deserve,” what we’re capable of. 

We’ve been conditioned in a whole set of beliefs about ourselves that aren’t grounded in reality— they’re based on what our bullies and abusers told us and made us feel about ourselves. 

We end up with this smorgasbord of beliefs and habits that aren’t really us— but which we are very attached to and entwined with. Our “trauma identity.” 

It’s one of the reasons so many survivors kind of confuse our symptoms with our “personality”— we’ve been basically brainwashed by our abusers and our experiences to believe that’s who and what we are. 

If we want to realistically recover, we’re going to need to give our nervous system an alternative, a recovery identity, to shoot for and flesh out.

Our recovery identity is everything about our life that we’re trying to create. 

It’s how we want to feel. 

It’s how we want to think. 

It’s the habits we want to cultivate. 

It’s even how we want to look. 

Think of our recovery identity as our roadmap— what we’re trying to make of our lives in trauma recovery. 

Defining a recovery identity, and keeping that “roadmap” handy, really matters, because otherwise we fall prey to the “pink elephant” problem. 

You know the “pink elephant” problem, right? Try this: DON’T think about a pink elephant. Come on, I said DON’T. Think about ANYTHING other than a pink elephant. 

Hard, right? That’s because our brains are not designed to NOT think about things. 

If we go around thinking about our “trauma identity” and telling ourselves DON’T think about those things, DON’T do those things, come on I said DON’T, no really DON’T…guess what our nervous system is going stay fixated on? 

That’s right: our “trauma identity.” 

It’s not enough to just define what we DON’T want. Most of us have been thinking non-stop about what we DON’T want for years. 

What we need is a template for what we DO want. What we value. What we’re trying to create. 

I’m a big believer in defining our recovery identity so specifically that we could crate a list of the characteristics we’re trying to cultivate in recovery— and I’m a big believer in checking that list often, to remind ourselves of what we’re doing here. 

It’s a big risk in trauma recovery, losing sight of what we’re doing here. 

The project can be so exhausting, so frustrating, so annoying, that if we don’t have a clear vision of why we’re doing this, we can lose momentum, develop the “f*ck it’s” real fast. 

So: define your recovery identity. Keep a running list of all of the the characteristics of the recovered version of “you.” 

Remember that your recovery identity isn’t a “perfect version of you— that doesn’t exist. 

It’s the version of you that prioritizes consistency, integrity, self-compassion, and personal responsibility. 

It’s the version of you that works every day to communicate with and take care of your “parts.” 

It’s the version of you that refuses to kick the sh*t out of yourself for setbacks or mistakes. 

Those are some starter examples— but you’re going to come up with a lot more. 

Make that list and keep it handy. Remember that the process of trauma recovery is about reconditioning our thoughts, beliefs, and habits, in patterns WE choose and that serve US. 

Think of your recovery identity not just as a goal, but a tool for shaping your self-talk, mental focus, and physiology. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

And remember who you’re becoming. 

drglenndoyle

Here’s to my fellow imperfect survivors.

Chances are, if you’re reading this, you’ve been told what to do and who to be for years. Maybe decades. 

Chances are you’re still being told what to do and who to be, at least by someone. 

We get those messages all the time. 

We get told who we “have” to be, to be “worthy.” 

We get told what we “have” to feel, to be “acceptable.” 

The implicit message that comes with all those things is, if we DON’T happen to be that person or feel those things, that we’ll be rejected. 

Abandoned. Maybe punished. 

Sometimes the people who are laying those messages on us have good intentions, or at least they think they do. 

They truly think that they’re doing us a favor by “making” us be and feel things that will make us more “sympathetic.” 

Here’s the thing about many trauma survivors: we’re not uniformly, perfectly sympathetic. 

We’re human. We’re imperfect. 

We’re going to have our less than sympathetic moments and moods and verbalizations— not because we’re terrible, but because we’re real. 

Us being “worthy” of existence, of support, of understanding, of safety, shouldn’t depend on us being perfect, or even sympathetic. 

Have you ever heard the expression “the perfect survivor?” 

That refers to a trope of a trauma survivor who is “perfectly” sympathetic— vulnerable but not too vulnerable, wounded but not too wounded, wounded in ways that don’t get in the way of being polite or kind…and, often, physically attractive. 

That’s what the culture likes in its trauma surivors, or at least the trauma survivors its interested in acknowledging and supporting and making movies about. 

But that doesn’t perfectly describe all of us, does it? 

It certainly doesn’t describe me. 

The reality is, your resemblance to the “perfect” trauma survivor has f*ck all to do with your “worthiness.” 

It has f*ck all to do with whether you should be believed about your trauma. 

It has f*ck all to do with whether you “deserve” support, or resources, or safety, or kindness. 

Here’s to all my fellow “imperfect” trauma survivors. 

The survivors who, like me, can be a pain in the ass. 

The survivors who, like me, sometimes have a sh*tty attitude. 

The survivors who, like me, often play out our trauma wounds in our relationships. 

The survivors who, like me, don’t immediately get the benefit of the doubt because of the fortuitous placement of our cheekbones. 

(Understand, I don’t have anything against physically attractive people— I’m just acknowledging how our culture’s assumptions about and attitudes toward physical attractiveness impact how our needs get addressed.) 

We’ve been told for years who we need to be and what we need to feel to be “worthy.” 

And it’s been mostly bullsh*t. 

It’s BS that contributed to our BS (Belief Systems). 

And it’s BS that we need to unwind in recovery. 

That can start today. 

drglenndoyle

Trauma Brain is neither “objective” nor “reliable.”

Don’t mistake Trauma Brain for a reliable source of information. 

Trauma Brain is the internalized voices of our abusers and bullies. 

It’d be like if our abusers and bullies bought a cable news network, the subject of which was us and our lives. 

All day, every day, their reporters would produce stories about us— but do you think those stories would be accurate, coming from our abusers and bullies? 

Not hardly. 

They’d probably focus disproportionately on how we suck. 

They’d focus on how our problems were our fault— and definitely not the fault of our abusers and bullies, who just happen to own the network. 

Those stories would focus on how we’re probably doing life entirely wrong— especially if we’re working a trauma recovery and trying to break free of our bullies’ and abusers’ influence. 

If our bullies and abusers had a cable news network, that’s what we’d expect. 

What we need to understand is that the cable news network that our bullies and abusers do have, and which is broadcasting 24/7/365, is Trauma Brain. 

Trauma Brain is particularly tricky, too, because it is the result of conditioning over time— meaning we often don’t realize that what we’re “hearing” from it is anything other than our own, spontaneous, “natural” thoughts. 

We readily acknowledge when a cable news network run by people with whom we disagree, runs news stories with a particular “slant.” 

We understand that cable news networks that have an agenda are going to omit certain facts and spin others, such that their point of view is strengthened.

I’m telling you, Trauma Brain is doing that right now, inside the head of every survivor. 

Trauma Brain omits facts. 

Trauma Brain spins other facts. 

Trauma Brain is NOT an objective source of information, any more than the cable news network run by your least favorite political actors is. 

Yet, we know that the biases and agendas of cable news networks don’t keep some people from watching them, and believing everything they broadcast. 

Any smart, objective person understands that the real truth is probably not what is being broadcast by those networks. 

And survivors who succeed at trauma recovery understand that Trauma Brain is not so much a truth-seeker or truth-teller, as it it is a spin doctor or an advertising executive. 

Trauma Brain is in the business of persuasion and coercion— not information. 

Yes, Trauma Brain can be convincing. So can cable news networks. 

But remember who is pulling the strings. 

Remember what the real agenda is. 

Remember that in order to see what we see and know what we know, we have to step back from the “news” ticker. 

Breathe; blink; focus. 

And look closer. 

drglenndoyle

Giving ourselves credit, instead of sh*t.

Giving yourself credit will not make you complacent. Really it won’t. 

Trauma survivors often struggle with giving ourselves credit, because we don’t want to lose our edge. 

We get worried that if we actually acknowledge when we do something well, we might get cocky— and then the sh*t will hit the fan, when our guard is down. 

We don’t believe this out of nowhere. Many of us have had experiences that reinforced for us that constant, constant vigilance was incredibly necessary to stay safe. 

We didn’t have time to sit around and pat ourselves on the back. We had to stay sharp. We had to watch for the next threat, be prepared for the next challenge. 

Add to that the fact that many of us were taught that giving ourselves credit was a form of “egotism” or “arrogance” that we have to stay away from if we want to be a “good” person. 

We were taught that it was unacceptable to even think nice thoughts about ourselves at all, let alone give ourselves actual credit for doing something well or right. 

According to our programming, if we start thinking nice things about ourselves, we’re just ASKING for the universe to step in and remind us that we’re not, actually, “good.” That we don’t, actually, deserve good things to happen to us. 

Trauma recovery asks us to step back and be realistic about where all this programming comes from. 

By and large, this conditioning comes from people and institutions that benefitted from us never cutting ourselves any slack, never giving ourselves credit, never giving ourselves a break. 

These people and institutions want us walking around feeling guilty, disempowered, insecure, and uncertain. 

It makes us easier to control.

It makes us easier to sell stuff to. 

And it makes us less likely to speak up about bad stuff that’s happened to us.

The reality is, in working with hundreds of CPTSD survivors, I’ve never once met one whose main problem was that they were too easy on themsevles, or that they gave themselves too much credit. 

I HAVE worked with dozens and dozens of survivors who did not feel they could make a “good” decision, under any circumstances— so they constantly undermined themselves, reversed themselves, or got so stuck in decision paralysis that they lost the chance to actually choose. 

It’s true that neither you nor I make EVERY decision well. 

But it’s also true that our decision making is almost always a mixed bag— which does include some competent, effective, values-congruent decisions alongside the stinkers. 

Giving ourselves credit for decisions we make well and things we do right matters, because realistic trauma recovery requires us to solidify and deepen our self-trust and self-esteem. 

Our “parts” are counting on us to listen to them and keep them safe— and they’re not going to buy into our ability to do either if we’re constantly doubting and trashing ourselves in our own head. 

We do not have to fall into the toxic positivity trap of telling ourselves EVERY decision we make or EVERYTHING we do is awesome. That’s delusional, and trauma recovery is almost entirely organized around realistically seeing what we see and knowing what we know. 

What we have to do, is be real with ourselves. 

Giving ourselves credit will not make us vulnerable in the way we’ve been conditioned to believe it will. 

It will not make us “arrogant” or “cocky.” 

Giving ourselves realistic credit will point us to our strengths— yes, believe it or not, you have strengths, right here, right now— and help us understand where we get stuck, where we miss things, where we need to pay extra attention. 

Giving yourself credit will not get you into trouble. 

Not with anyone who realistically supports your trauma recovery, anyway. 

Breathe. Blink. Focus. 

And give yourself a break and a pat on the back today. 

drglenndoyle

Our abusers were not “strong” or “powerful.”

Many of us remember our bullies or abusers as larger than life. 

That has nothing to do with how big or powerful they actually were. 

It has everything to do with how vulnerable and powerless we felt— how vulnerable and powerless we were made to feel. 

The reality is, abusing or bullying someone doesn’t make someone “strong” or “powerful.” 

Some of us had abusers who were respected or celebrated by the community around them. 

Some of us had abusers who were objectively “powerful,” at least as far as cultural norms go. 

But the fact that they abused us tells the truth: they were not “strong.” 

Abuse is a behavior perpetrated by weak people. 

I don’t care if our abusers were staples of the community of the church. 

I don’t care if they will go down as relatively “powerful” people among the people who knew them. 

They were weak. 

And their “achievements” do not make up for what they did. 

Sometimes we survivors can get up in our heads about the fact that our abusers were “complicated”— and I can heavily identify with this. My father was more complicated than most. 

And, the fact that he was complicated does not take away from the fact that his hurtful behavior made him weak. 

There is nothing in abusive behavior that contributes positively to anyone’s legacy. 

There are plenty of “complicated” people in history who have not harmed other people. 

You and I can’t crawl inside the head of the people who abused us, so we’ll never quite know what their deal is. 

We can speculate all day about who they “really” are or were, but in the end, we’d just be guessing. 

Which is all for the best, because to be hoenst, I don’t especially are. 

There’s nothing I could learn about an abuser’s inner world that would make what they do acceptable. 

Even as a psychologist, someone who is utterly fascinated by the human mind and human motivation, I just don’t care. 

Abusers are weak. 

No matter how “powerful” the world may pretend they are, they are weak. 

No matter how “strong” they pretend to be, they are weak. 

Survivors are strong. 

Survivors are brave. 

Survivors working our recovery are worthy. 

And survivors working our recovery are the reason why the world continues to contain humanity and grace. 

That’s what I think, anyway. 

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

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.