Well, the flood of hearts and pink ribbons and candy is behind us.
Anyone else have heartburn?
If you’re happily single, like me, or perhaps your Valentine’s Day didn’t live up to every swooning fantasy provided by Victoria’s Secret and Hallmark, you may be feeling a little flat.
I’m going to give you my favorite 2 techniques for turning a sense of loneliness or letdown into something delicious.
One is to turn your own journey into something that will inspire others. I’m collecting stories of healing as part of the One Billion Rising movement started by Eve Ensler to end violence against women and girls. Eve’s mission is to shed light on horrible things; mine is to shed light on how we heal. Hit reply to this email, share your story of healing (super short and simple is perfect) and I’ll share them on my blog next week. I’ll link to your site or keep you anonymous, whichever you prefer.
The second is a little simpler, and it has to do with love songs.
Now I love me a good Emmy Lou Harris weeper, I swoon at Patty Griffin’s melancholic stylings, and–I’ll admit it–I absolutely adore Taylor Swift’s heartrenders.
But they are– I’m sorry, ladies of the mike– the tiniest bit repetitive when it comes to their themes.
I’m nothing without you, can’t think of anyone but you, I’ll never get over you, I’m always here for you.
(No wonder we feel blue if we’re not in a constant state of orgasm!)
So here’s what I do.
I play and sing and croon along with these songs…and I sing them to myself.
Yup. Dear soul of mine, I’m nothing without you. Dear creative project of mine, I can’t think of anyone but you. Dear passion of my heart, I’ll never get over you. Sad and lonely self, I’m always here for you.
Cheesy? Maybe.
But SO FREAKING EFFECTIVE. Just try it. Pick one of your favorite songs, one of those that makes you feel a little bit embarrassed for liking so much because it is so sappy and needy.
And make it into a love song to your own sweet self.
Our culture is obsessed with the idea that we need a perfect someone in order to be complete, and that another person should be able to meet our needs, read our minds, heal our wounds, and make our hair shiny.
I call bullshit on that.
Our media paints joy as having only one face: being locked into someone else’s adoring embrace.
But many psychologists claim that the popular depiction of romantic, infatuated love is closer to co-dependency than a healthy partnership. So a lot of us mistake love and support for someone being all up in our business. Which causes a lot of us to bring people in close who actually have no business being there. We invite other peoples’ opinions, approval, and judgments into the space that should belong only to us.
I want to show you how to take back that space so that you can make your own choices, be your own most loyal ally, and support yourself through every heartbreak, lonely day, and melancholy guitar riff.
I created a free class that combines some super practical nitty-gritty strategies along with some truly magical techniques for dealing with difficult people, doubters, and critics.
You can sign up for it by clicking here.
I want to show you how to hold that sacred space where you create your own magic. Where you can bring in all the love you desire. And where your joy is more delicious than any songwriter could have possibly imagined.