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Like most of my blog posts, this idea originated in a conversation with one of my four daughters,
my youngest to be exact. We were talking about how strong, brainy, amazing young women will
sometimes pick unsuitable partners, and then just stick with them. Especially if they haven’t
dated a lot. This is not the case for my daughter.

She has had a robust dating life, to say the least. She will choose a potential boo and go out
with him until he disappoints her in a lack of humor, grace, or kindness. Or there’s just a feeling
that they would be better suited as friends. Then they part ways, and she’s back to being single.
Single or paired – both are fine. She has a great friend group, both male and female, so she
knows she doesn’t need a man to complete her.

Knowing that she doesn’t need a man makes her more lighthearted about dating. She knows if
this one doesn’t work, there will always be another down the road. In her words, she sifts, she
doesn’t settle. When she said that phrase evidently I got a gleam in my eye, because she said,
“you’re gonna write a blog post about this, aren’t you?“ Well of course I am! That’s a great
concept!

Imagine if we applied this “sift, don’t settle“ mantra to other areas of life: jobs, friendships,
leisure activities, outfits, handbags. If we weren’t grasping for that next thing or person that
would make us eternally happy, then we could sift through our options with less FOMO. I submit
that the “fear of missing out” leads to a lot of shaky decisions, including settling for something
we know isn’t the best for us. If we took a sifting approach, seeing the options as freeing and not
necessarily permanent, then we wouldn’t feel stuck when we chose something that feels safe,
but a little stale. We would kindly extricate ourselves from the staleness and move on until we
found something, or someone, who ticked all our important boxes, not just a few.

This has come up often in my client sessions. Girls and women feel that if they have spent time,
money, and effort on something, they might as well stick with it. They have too much invested to
look for something more suitable. They are stuck, but at least they’re comfortable. I respectfully
respond, “Hogwash!” Yes, it takes effort and energy to end something you’ve invested in, but if
you don’t, you’ll be stuck in the same circumstance forever. There are no fairy godmothers who
will sweep in and fix it for you; this is your life to create as suits you best. And sometimes that
means saying goodbye to safety in order to find joy. So kindly tell that unsuitable mate, outfit, or
job goodbye and just keep sifting until you find something that feels like staying, not settling.

XO
Terri

P.S. if you have a settling disorder, please tell me all about it at terrif@findyourpride.org or go
here for life-coaching packages to get you un-stuck https://girlpowerforgood.org/life-coach/

Our culture, and my Inner Viking, requires that we keep pushing to be successful. We think we must
work harder, longer hours, lift more weights, run faster, struggle more, worry more, make more money,
live in a bigger house, and my favorite, “push our kids harder to be successful”. I think it’s deeper than
that, though. We correlate pushing harder with reaching a place of safety. As if when we get the bigger
house, nicer car, or bigger paycheck, then everything will be easy. Only then will we be safe and secure.
Really? Do we have any evidence to back this up?

Is there really a perfect future where everything is “normal” with the perfect partner and perfect kids?
This, my friends, is a delusion. When you get the bigger house, there’s more to clean and maintain. And
the mortgage will keep you up at night. A bigger paycheck means bigger taxes. The fancy car comes
with higher insurance and maintenance fees. The hardbody comes with injuries if you’ve pushed it past
healthy to “feel the burn”. Also, you lose a relationship with your kids, because every conversation
revolves around effort and working harder, like “if you just finish your homework earlier, you could get
better grades, and then, and only then, will I love you.” Of course you don’t SAY that, but, in my eight
years of coaching teenagers, believe me, that’s what they hear. I am an expert in all these ways of
struggle, as I’ve done them all. And I’m here to tell you, there is a better way:
Step off the Gas!

This pearl of wisdom came from my Uber driver, Jeremy, on my first family trip of the summer to
Washington D.C. Jeremy was telling me about his second job as a Big Rig driver, and that job has taught
him a thing or two. But the following gave me a big, fat AHA moment. When he wants to change lanes, he
has two choices. He can bully his way over since he’s the biggest guy on the road. This works, but it’s
unsettling to other drivers. Or he can just step off the gas, slowing gently with his blinker on, inviting the
other drivers to let him over. Then they’re all in this together. They can decide to let him over, or he can
slow to a stop until they do. He sends out a mental message, “Ok, guys, I’m coming over, and I’m in no
hurry. This can take all day—it’s up to you.” Eventually, they let him over, and they all go about their day a
little more peacefully. 

Same result; WAY different feeling.
Thanks, Jeremy, for a wonderful reminder of how to live my summer intention of Calm Connection. I
stepped off the gas yesterday by reading a book outside with a glass of my favorite cinnamon apple tea
until it was too hot. Then I moseyed back and made a video to post on Facebook. That was the easiest
video I’ve done all year. Was it because I had set up a feeling of ease by taking a break? I dunno. Why
don’t you try Stepping Off the Gas for yourself (be sure and write how you choose to take a break in the
comments of the FB video) and let me know how it goes by dropping me a line at terrif@findyourpride.org.

XO
Terri

Yesterday was the memorial for our dear friend Stuart. I was talking to my friend Ayne about this
blog post, saying that I just didn’t have the motivation to write it. I’m sad, and creating is
challenging when you’re sad. She looked me straight in the eye and said, “Just do it. Just write
it. It might help someone.“ So, here we are.

During the memorial service, I noticed myself slipping into the same place I was in South Africa.
A place of intentional slowing to take in my surroundings. This place is different than the
slowness of lockdown, but It’s also different than jumping back into the swirl. Because the
cataloging of every moment with your phone or judging this moment as compared to what you
thought it was gonna’ be or what it “should” be is the old normal.

I believe we can create a new normal that involves awareness of just the here and now. Instead
of reaching for my phone to freeze every experience in South Africa, I just stayed in the
experience, watching it and letting it flow over me. Bathing in the sensation of wildness that
stretched forever without needing to name it.

My favorite wacky yoga teacher Sarah would end her class with a breathing prompt of “Just“ on
the inhale and “This“ on the exhale.

Just this.
Just this.

That’s what I tried to practice in my last month of adventure into the wilds of Africa and New
York City weddings. In South Africa I was a witness, a tiny speck in the vast landscape. I felt
such a privilege to observe the beauty around me. In New York City it was much the same. I
kept slowing myself to take in the magic of watching my eldest wed her best friend of 11 years.
Whenever I felt the multitasking urge, I would instead whisper “just this” and return to wonder.

The same thing happened yesterday. I slowed down my need to chatter and witnessed all the
love in the room for the giant teddy bear of a man that was Stuart. I witnessed the strength and
grace of his family and the juxtaposition of copious tears and big laughs. I could feel his
presence in the room every time someone told a Stuart and David story. I felt him in the swing
of little Ellie’s hair as she scampered around the room. And I especially felt him in the smooth
timber of Will’s speech and Stuart Paul’s salute to his little brother. Stuart was everywhere, and I
was lucky enough to witness those small moments. As Will said, Stuart was a master of making
small things have big meaning. We will miss him, and that will never end. But we have our
memories, and we have each other. And that is just enough.

XO
Terri
P.S. Thanks, Ayne!

Hello, again. I’m finally back in the groove of my “normal” life after 4 weeks of adventure
in the wilds of South Africa and watching my eldest tie the knot in New York City.
Actually, I’ve been back for 2 weeks, and I’m just now able to write and create again.
Because, it seems, even really cool adventures take a toll.

It took me a while to recover my balance and believe in my ability to inspire others, due
to four weeks of too much change, too many people, and not enough alone time for my
inner introvert to feel safe. For the last two weeks I’ve been awash in self-doubt. Right up
until I accepted that I was locked in a stress response and started to ask for help.

My help started in the form of the best book I’ve read in a LONG time called What
Happened to You?: Conversations on Trauma, Resilience and Healing by Dr. Bruce Perry
and Oprah Winfrey. It’s about how childhood trauma affects you. It’s a subject with which
I’m well acquainted since I was raised by wolves (really interesting and hilarious wolves,
but wolves nonetheless). It seems that when I’m in unfamiliar surroundings without my
safe space, I get triggered and shut down in various ways. Like a turtle, I pull my head in
and freeze.

My month of adventure triggered this freeze response, and I couldn’t regulate myself. I
asked my safe people for help, and slowly the frozen pond of self-doubt is beginning to
thaw. As I learned in this book, we humans need other people to help us regulate after a
trauma-induced stress response. We can’t “think” our way out of the situation, because
our cortex is offline during a trauma response. First, we must regulate ourselves.

I chose movement and music to regulate. I’ve been walking and paddle boarding while
listening to music for two weeks, while I kept my expectations very low…just doing the
minimum at work. The next step after Regulate is Relate. We must talk to our safe people
and ask for help. With every telling, the problem seems more manageable. Only then, can
we move to the final step of Reason, with the help of our cortex to strategize a way
forward.

Regulate-Relate-Reason has its own timeline and rushing it won’t work. Know that if you
put yourself first on your TODO list, you’re patient with the process, then you can return
to contentment much faster than powering through a trauma response. Powering
through doesn’t do anything but bury the trauma, then it takes you down when you’re too
tired to power through anymore.

I’m a firm believer in feeling your feelings, and when you’re in a trauma-induced stress
response your feelings can overwhelm you to the point of shut-down. This is the time to
try the Regulate-Relate-Recover method. It really works! See, I just used an exclamation
point, I’m feeling more like myself already. Get the book, then ask for help.

If your middle schooler or high schooler needs help, go to
https://www.facebook.com/girlpower4good/events/ to sign up for the new class that Dr.
Jenn and I are doing on Facebook. As always, I’m just an email away at terrif@findyourpride.org.

XO

Terri

Grit Happens.

I am stubborn-just ask my family-but it’s not such a bad thing. In fact, stubbornness is a blessing when you’re trying to learn a new skill, recover from a tragedy or live in a world that refuses to return to normal. Another word for stubbornness is grit. If you are too stubborn to give up, and you’re pursuing a goal that makes you and your world better, grit is the glue that puts all the pieces together. 
Since my last blog, I have found some acceptance after days where tears were a possibility at any moment. I spent a lot of time with my knitting and my fluffy dog, waiting to feel my grit return. And slowly I feel some resolve gelling, like an aspic without the soggy vegetables. 

I talk, A LOT, to my volleyball girls and their  parents about grit, because it’s a necessary component for a successful career, on or off the court. Parents must let their kids fail in order to flex their grit muscles, and that develops grit in the parent, as well. Allowing our kids to feel uncertainty and disappointment is the hardest job we have, but it is necessary to prepare our kids for real life, when we aren’t there to pick up the pieces for them.

That’s the thing about grit, it only develops when the chit hits the fan. You don’t gain grit from sunshine and rainbow days, running through fields of daisies with a soundtrack of violins. You gain grit when the unthinkable happens, and your reality expands to include tragedy and pain alongside joy and giggles. Life isn’t one or the other, it’s both tragedy and joy,  

I know I will return to my bubbly, goofy self again, just not any time soon. Until then I rely on my grit, and slowly, slowly return to a new kind of normal. 

XO
Terri

P.S. If you need some help with strengthening your grit, drop me a line at terrif@findyourpride.org or go here for information on coaching: https://girlpowerforgood.org/life-coach/

I have BIG plans for today-I’m organizing a closet. There are still boxes in there from when we moved in December-before-last. Just writing that sentence makes me cringe. You see, I am a reformed perfectionist. I changed my ways, because I couldn’t create a Girl Power for Good movement that changes the way girls and women relate to themselves and each other AND hold onto perfectionism. Perfectionism and creating big dreams do not go hand in hand. Why?

Because perfectionism takes way too much time and energy to be productive.

When you’re on a path to change a culture or do anything really meaningful, you need all your time and energy to create that thing. There’s no room for fiddle-faddling with worrying about being perfect. Simply put, it’s a waste of precious resources.

I have a great friend who life coaches surgeons. In the heart surgery biz, there is a practice that illustrates this theme. When a surgeon is putting in a stint and cleans up the arterial plaque, they aim for 85% clear. If they go back in for the last 15%, the risk of doing harm overtakes the reward of less plaque. I figure if a heart surgeon is okay being a B student, I can leave the A+ on the table for now. 

How can you apply this in your life? Where is good Good Enough? When your “discussion” with your teen about responsibility has wound down to a calm place, can you resist getting the last word? It won’t do any good, probably because they’ve heard that same thing eleventy-nine times. One last word has a risk of undoing all the good that has happened to get the conversation to a calm place. 

And now I could add a lot more wisdom and quippy prose, but I believe this is good enough! 

Where in your life can you say “Good Enough” and move on to do something more meaningful? Write it on the Big Board at our community center. If you need help, write to me at terrif@findyourpride.org!

XO
Terri

The 2020 shi-show continues, and this week has reached new levels of WTF-is-happening-and-why. On Monday I asked my volleyball teams what they need to work on to be better players and people, and one of my 16’s said, “Patience”. I started a blog on the benefits of patience, and then our little world fell apart. One of the dearest souls I’ve ever met lost his fight with COVID-19 and left us all bereft, trying to piece together a bit of grace in the face of a world that feels empty.

Part of me feels like I have no right to grieve the way I am. He wasn’t my husband, brother, father or son; he was just my friend. But he gave new meaning to the word friend. He was a big man who took up a lot of space, and there’s no one I know who’s big enough to fill that space. He had his own gravitational pull of mischief that drew you in to his twinkle. Even on the worst days, he could make a wholly inappropriate comment that made you spit-soda-outta-your-nose laugh, and the world would be okay again. Today, it doesn’t feel like the world will ever be okay again without that twinkle .

I know that this blog is usually motivational, but it’s also real. And right now everything is heavy and dark. We are moving around like robots. I would love to put a pretty bow on all this pain, and tie things up with a catch phrase that makes my loved ones feel better. But it will be a long time before any of us feel better.

So, I will listen to my girls and have patience. I will keep putting one foot in front of the other. I will hug those I can and send love to those I can’t, and we will, little by little, try to live in a world without Stuart.