My husband and I were sitting down to watch Heartland, the Canadian show about a family of horse ranchers, when I mentioned I forgot to buy napkins.

“You did what? How could you forget? I wrote them on the list!”

“Yeah, well, I was in a hurry to get the shopping done.”

“Goddamn it!”

“How dare you yell at me?!”

We stared at each other. I felt like leaving the room, but that’s what I would have done in the old days, walked out, slammed the front door and stormed around the block, which is a fine way to de-escalate. Only here there was nothing that needed de-escalating because I have learned to not walk away and instead bear momentary emotional discomfort and stick with the situation.

We’re both too old to hold grudges

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m being unreasonable.”

“Damn straight you are.” I stared at him. And that was that.

I even laughed a little, glad we could get on with our show.  

We’re both too old to hold grudges over such things anymore. And besides, it’s rare for us to yell at one another these days. It kind of took me by surprise. But after forty-one years of marriage I’ve learned to stick up for myself.

Except that I didn’t let go. Later in the evening I asked, “Is there anything else going on.”

He looked at me, piqued again. “Just because I got annoyed you forgot the napkins? No, I just needed an attitude adjustment. You don’t expect me to be perfect all the time, do you?”

I saw his point. People get annoyed with each other, maybe act unreasonably once in a while; I sure do. It passes. No big deal. Make an apology, accept an apology, and move on.

My husband and I went on a five-mile hike in the mountains this weekend. The rocky trail didn’t look too difficult, so we didn’t bring our hiking poles. That was a mistake. The terrain rose steadily over two and a half miles and the going was more difficult than we anticipated, but not horrible.

We stopped three quarters of the way at a gorgeous mountain swimming hole where I took a dip in the frigid water. After lunch we climbed another half mile then turned back, not sure how much further the waterfall we kept hearing about was.

To take my mind off how tired I was, I started reminiscing about when and how we met. It was at a group therapy session held by a psychologist who had been abusive to us both. I was eighteen at the time, my to-be husband was seventeen.

“I remember I was wearing a green and blue striped wrap-around skirt I got a re-sale shop and held together with a funky rhinestone pin.”

“I don’t remember,” he said.

“Why would you? It was so ugly!”

“How did you find Tyrell?”

“At first I went through the Yellow Pages looking for psychologists and when they asked how I would pay and I said I couldn’t, they all said sorry. Then I remembered my brother had seen Tyrell and loved him.”

“Yeah, I thought he was this cool guy at first. Until I didn’t.”

Tyrell started being physically, emotionally and psychologically abusive to many of his clients, unless you were on his goody-goody list, which Bill and I weren’t. We were “hiding” our emotions. We were “fake.” I was a “spoiled brat,” and though I’d been raped, I was “a cock tease.”

Mistakes over the decades due to poor judgement

The cramp in my left foot was getting worse. I stopped to take a rest, bend over and stretch the tightness in the small of my back.

“God, we were babies back then. It’s amazing we survived. We’ve been together for so long. Forty years is a long time,” I said, straightening.

“Forty-one,” my husband corrected me as we started hiking again.

“Forty-two, if you count the year we lived together.”

We’ve made plenty of mistakes over the decades due to poor judgement, like deciding we didn’t need the hiking poles when we did. But we’ve survived and thrived because we’ve accepted the challenges and bent with the changes. We continue to make room for change in each other and in ourselves.

And we keep learning from our experiences.

Next time, even if the path looks relatively easy, I’ll bring my hiking poles just in case. I can always use the added support and appreciate how much easier they make the journey.

I’ve learned to accept help. The ability to recognize when I need it is wisdom.

When I was suffering and at my worst as a mother of two small children, I once consulted the I Ching, an ancient Chinese divination tool that imparts spiritual wisdom and sage advice. It gave me the admonition to pray and meditate, implying that those endeavors would go a long way toward solving my problems and the anguish in my heart.

Meditate? I don’t have time to do that! I want answers now! (You know, like that old joke, “Dear God, grant me patience now, damn it!”)

I decided instead that I needed a walk in the woods. I craved a hit of nature, and believed I hadn’t spent enough time in it. So, I took my kids into the forest, and, as they were not pleased and were tired, and would much rather sit down and not budge, I screamed at a tree until my throat was raw, furious that God was not helping me!

I wanted immediate answers, immediate soothing, immediate solutions

Just like my kids, I had plenty of tantrums in those days, which did nothing to soothe my battered heart. (Let alone my kids–poor dears!) I wanted immediate answers, immediate soothing, immediate solutions.

But it had taken me years to get to where I was — angry, sad, dissatisfied, and I was pouting in a horrible way. That’s not to say I wasn’t genuinely sad and depressed and in a bad state. I was.

What I’m saying is that if I had tolerated sitting in prayer and meditation faithfully everyday, even if for just for five minutes at a time, I am certain I would have found a way out of my darkness a lot sooner than I did.

Instead, I isolated and stewed and shared my postpartum depression with no one, least of all my husband or other women friends, so ashamed was I of not being able to cope with motherhood. Back in those days, I was crippled by the stigma of mental illness and would not admit to anyone I suffered from it.

Brooke Shields, Reese Witherspoon, Carey Mulligan

Today, the stigma of mental illness has lessened thanks in part to countless brave celebrities and authors who have gone public: Brooke Shields, Reese Witherspoon, Carey Mulligan, to name a few. I was severely depressed and wish I had admitted it sooner. Kudos to all those individuals who recognize their mental illness and who seek treatment.

And while treatment from mental health professionals is essential, prayer and meditation also help.

Dwell, O Mind, within yourself;

Enter no other’s home.

If you but seek there, you will find

All you are searching for.

God, the true Philosopher’s Stone,

Who answers every prayer,

Lies hidden deep within your heart,

The richest gem of all.

How many pearls and precious stones

Are scattered all about

The outer court that lies before

The chamber of your heart!

–A Song of Sri Ramakrishna

Newsweek published my personal essay this week, “I Hated Myself for What I Did — Then Realized I Was Trafficked.”

The first mistake I made after it was published was reading the comments. Two trolls attacked me personally, saying vile things I won’t repeat here. I thought of replying, finger poised over the submit button, saying I wrote the article for kids still suffering on the streets, you morons. I didn’t, and instead ruminated for twenty-four hours over whether I should have written the article.

And yet, there was another comment applauding my bravery and advocacy. Did I give that comment as much of my attention? No, I did not. That’s a common phenomenon. Why is that? Why focus on the negative rather than the positive?

Because I was experiencing what researchers call the “negativity bias.”

Why do we focus on the negative rather than the positive?

Apparently, it’s an evolutionary mechanism that allowed early humans to learn from negative outcomes and thus avoid certain situations in the future. In other words, attention to negativity enhances our adaptability and survival.

Still obsessing, I finally sought out my Twitter #WritingCommunity for support. Sure enough, friends bolstered my confidence and cheered me on, saying don’t pay attention to those losers. One friend (thanks, Elizabeth!) even sent me this quote:

“If you are not in the arena getting your ass kicked on occasion, I am not interested in or open to your feedback. There are a million cheap seats in the world today filled with people who will never be brave with their own lives, but will spend every ounce of energy they have hurling advice and judgement at those of us trying to dare greatly. Their only contributions are criticism, cynicism, and fear-mongering. If you’re criticizing from a place where you’re not also putting yourself on the line, I’m not interested in your feedback.” — Brené Brown

I love you, Brené!

What this negative experience has taught me is: 1) Don’t read the comments, 2) There are a lot of sick people out there who want you to remain docile and silent, and 3) My story is important and just might help to move the dial towards ending youth homelessness. I think that’s worth tolerating hecklers.

Now, where to submit my next personal essay to?

zhttps://www.ihealthunifiedcare.com/articles/the-negativity-bias-why-our-minds-focus-on-the-negative

vhttps://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3652533