Category Archives: Acceptance

Do You Know Who You Are?

Do you remember that girl in your class who was really pretty, whose hair was always perfect? Did you compare yourself to her and feel ugly? How about the girl who always had a witty response? Did being around her make you feel as if you were just so dull?  Do you still find yourself thinking like that? Does your super-clean sister-in-law make you feel like an incompetent housekeeper or your stay-at-home neighbor make you feel like an incompetent mother? Do you ever feel that you are boring, that you always mess things up, that you’re not so smart or talented or just a complete failure?
Guess what? You are normal. Probably many of the people you think are better than you look at others and also feel inferior in some way. It’s almost as if this is a mandatory qualification for being a woman.
I know a tenth grader who is on top of her class academically. She has a wonderful personality and lots of friends, and her middos are extolled by many of her teachers. Yet when I asked her why a teen who has everything going for her would have low self-esteem, she looked at me as if I was crazy and answered, “Isn’t it obvious why?”
Low self-esteem doesn’t stay behind in a classroom. If it isn’t worked on, it follows us straight into the workforce, marriage and motherhood.  But no matter our stage in life, it’s never too late to work on improving the way we feel about ourselves.
In פרקי אבות, פרק ב: משנה ו, it says, “.ולא הבישן לומד” What does this mean? One can’t learn because of embarrassment? Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski writes that if a person has a question in learning but won’t ask because he feels that he should know it, or he must not be smart because no one else has this question, then he loses out on very important learning opportunities. How can a person learn if he always feels embarrassed? This is not a good embarrassment, nor is it humbleness. It comes from feeling bad about one’s self and the repercussions are not positive.
With these kinds of feelings it is hard to achieve anything. How can you accomplish if you always feel that if your ideas had merit someone else would have come up with them or that you’re just not capable of carrying them out? Nowhere in the Torah does it say that you should feel incompetent or unqualified. And as the Mishnah says, your shame will stop you from understanding, learning and accomplishing.
There is one kind of embarrassment that is praiseworthy. This comes from anivus, true humbleness, like Moshe Rabbeinu displayed. We all know that Moshe Rabbeinu was an ענו מכל אדם. Yet, Moshe was the leader of Klal Yisrael. He knew his strengths and used them for עבודת השם.
We are all mirrors reflecting tiny pieces of Hashem’s various middos. Therefore, we must be careful to acknowledge when a talent exists within us. It is not egotistical to know that you are a great organizer, a wonderful listener, a talented party planner or a very patient, loving mother. Rather, realize that you are a reflection of Hashem’s attributes. When we can acknowledge that the strengths we have are from Hashem and we are ready to use them for our own growth or for the sake of those around us, then we are acting in a G-dly way. This is a positive kind of “embarrassment.”
So let’s say you are the typical mother and wife fighting those nasty voices in your head telling you that you aren’t good, that you are inferior to others. You don’t know how to handle this child’s issue. You aren’t sure that you are showing enough support to your husband. And maybe in general you are doing something wrong because your children almost never show responsibility. What are practical applications to help you like yourself?
You can know that like every living person, you are perfectly imperfect. Your flaws were given to you by Hashem, Who wrapped them all up together in a box for your life’s journey. (You can imagine what color your box is, the size of the box and whether it has a bow or not.)
Accept your limitations – they are from Hashem. But don’t become complacent about them. Work on them with Hashem. Ask Him to help you make changes to turn your negatives into positives. And don’t forget to recognize your strengths. Find them. Remind yourself every day about the qualities that are specific to you.
Talk back to your negative voices. You can tell them, “Listen here, Voice, I know you are trying to making me feel bad about my flaws. But guess what?  Everyone has flaws. I also have strengths. That’s what I am trying to focus on. So you can keep telling me that I am not good enough, but I will keep telling you about all my strong points.”
Consider the following quote: “It’s not what you are that is holding you back, but rather, what you think you are not.”
Learn what you are so that you can use your kochos fully.
This article originally appeared in Links magazine and appears here in revised form, with permission.

Regular Me

 

One day I stopped and said, “I was always plain ordinary me. I am just so regular. What happened? My life is not regular anymore.”

Regular is a very broad word. What is regular for me may not be regular for someone else. But I think that most people will agree that their vison of regular does not include sitting at the bedside of three family members, watching them die. My vision of regular did not include losing parents at such a young age. My vision of regular did not include going to a cemetery on a fairly regular basis.

My vision of regular was having my parents around for many years. My vison of regular was having my parents around as I raised my own children. My vison of regular was for all my siblings to get married and raise their own families. My vision of regular was to grow together even as we build our own families.

But regular seemed to forget about my family. At the young age of fourteen, my brother died from leukemia. At the time I thought this was our family’s big tragedy. From here on, it would be smooth sailing. I got married shortly afterward, and things were good. But one fine day my sister received a diagnosis of cancer. Three days later, my mother also did.

Over the next few years, I lived with constant fear. We were always waiting. Waiting for my mother’s scans and waiting for my sister’s test results. If one of their tests came back looking good, it didn’t mean that the other’s would. There were ups, there were downs. There was hope, and there was despair. There was anticipation, and there was dejection. There was courage, and there was faith.

But with all the faith we had, we couldn’t have ever possibly imagined that one night, in the middle of a relative’s chasunah, my father would have a massive heart attack and die. We were confused. We were davening so much for our mother and sister. So my father died? There wasn’t time to dwell on it. My sister was sick and withering away. We had to put all of our kochos into her refuah. Eight months later, she was nifteres, and eighteen months after that, we sat shivah for my mother.

After that shivah I realized I had no emergency to focus on anymore. There was no one sick and no distractions. It was time to look at myself – definitely something I didn’t want to do. It is so much easier to keep on running. I didn’t like who I had become. I was distracted and unfocused. I was sad and impatient.

And so began my own healing process. I had to learn that emotions are real. When I feel sad it is okay to feel it. I feel better when I accept my pain and don’t push it away.

I had to realize that guilt was harming me. I know I did what I could for both my mother and my sister. Guilt was telling me that I had lost out on opportunities. I had to make sure this guilt would not disrupt my wellbeing.

I had to learn how to open up more to my friends. They wanted to support me; I just needed to let them. I was very emotionally closed. To open up and let someone deep in to the most painful places was so scary. But to remain alone in my pain was even worse.

I had to work very hard on accepting that everything that happened was exactly the way Hashem wanted it to happen. I wasn’t in charge. I couldn’t have done things differently for a different outcome.

At times I still feel sad and lonely. I still wonder what it would be like if my whole family would be alive. I still feel the need to turn to my parents for so many different reasons. I miss my sister so, so much. I wonder what my brother’s wife would have been like and how many children they might have had.

My challenges have made it necessary to work on myself consistently and constantly.

It isn’t easy because I just want to be regular – normal. By now I have learned that I am normal, but my normal is different than the way I thought it would be. I am learning acceptance over and over again. The more I accept, the calmer I feel.

The pain of losing a parent at any age is very difficult. Because of my experiences I am able to help out others going through similar experiences. This is part of my regular. I always thought that I would have a different regular. But my life is just as it is supposed to be. Regular custom-made for me

My Bad Mood

My Bad Mood

It was simple. I was in a bad mood. I felt overwhelmed with too many things that had to be done. I was upset at some new challenges that had been placed before me. I felt incapable and incompetent. It all felt like too much for me. I wasn’t interested in new situations I’d have to deal with right now.

I wanted mundane. I wanted boring. Because I know that my mundane and boring isn’t mundane or boring. Exhaustion can definitely put me in that negative frame of mind, so I went to sleep, hoping I would wake up feeling better. But I didn’t. I woke up sunk in self-pity. I woke up in a rebellious mood. So do you know what I did? I rebelled. I thought, “Today I am angry. Today I am wondering why Hashem is giving me these challenges. Today I feel like I am not in the mood of today. You know what? I will be in a bad mood. I will feel angry. And I don’t even want to daven.

The next day, still in a slump, I called a friend. She actually was able to put a positive spin on all my distress. But I didn’t want to hear it. I was not ready to feel less pity for myself. So I called the next friend. We spoke it out. I told her all my anxieties and concerns. The more I talked, the better I felt. My friend totally got me. She related to my rebelliousness. She related to my anger. And she told me how she helps herself when she feels that way.

As the conversation was winding down I recapped how I can help myself. And then she said to me, “Don’t think you can do it by yourself. You need to ask Hashem to help you get out of this mood.” And I started laughing. Of course. What had I been I thinking? I got so caught up in the anger and negativity that I was feeling toward Hashem that I was pushing away the very One I needed to get me where I needed to go.   I forgot that Hashem is an all-encompassing, inescapable part of every area of my life. This includes my moods.

He has given me challenges, but He has given me the tools to deal with them. He has given me challenges, but He wants to help me. He hasn’t forsaken me. He gave me these challenges not to feel sorry for myself, but to reach out to him.

My circumstances didn’t change. There are situations in my life that are causing me a lot of anxiety and a lot of fear. But self-pity is futile.

Life is happening. There are stressors and pressures. There are anxieties and tensions. But sinking into self-pity is a choice I don’t want to make. I would rather choose to tell Hashem how I feel and to ask him to take away any feelings that are more harmful than good.

I think I needed that day or two to feel sorry for myself. I needed time to mope before tackling all this negativity inside of me. But now, with Hashem’s help, I am ready to get out of my slump and to keep on moving forward in a peaceful frame of mind.