Best Life Ever

Embracing Boundaries: A Journey to Self-Discovery

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” It’s not your job to like me – it’s mine.”

Byron Katie

By Elizabeth Ouellette

I proudly wore the “people pleaser” badge for most of my life. I truly believed that the more I did for others, the better. It was as if I was born with an instinct to serve—always putting others first, ensuring their happiness took priority over mine. After all, isn’t that what life’s about? Creating harmony, spreading joy, and working together to improve the world? This belief was ingrained in me from a young age, and I became quite the pro. I excelled!

“Take your dog for a walk? Absolutely! When and where… I’ll be there.” (Internal monologue: “I’m allergic, but hey, what are hives between friends?”)

“Help you move this weekend? Sure! I’ve got nothing better to do.” (Inner self: “Wait, WHAT? I’d rather chew glass than spend my weekend carrying boxes.”)

“Take care of your two rats while you’re out of town? Oh, I love a challenge!” (Underneath the “nice” mask: “Stress level = HIGH. What if they die? What if I die? What if my cats eat them?”)

Looking back, I can see how deeply I embraced the role of making others happy—at my own expense. Saying “No” wasn’t rare; it didn’t even cross my mind. I didn’t realize I had a choice.

Eventually, the endless demands made me resentful, worn out, and just plain defeated. My affable people-pleaser bubble popped, and I was left deflated and disappointed… mostly in myself.

Boundaries: Where I begin, and you end.  

Boundaries? What Are Those?

“Have you heard of boundaries?” you might ask. Ah, yes, boundaries. I had no idea what those were. My sense of where I ended and others began? Almost non-existent. I had spent so long catering to others that I didn’t know what I needed. And thinking about my own needs first? That just seemed selfish. Crazy, right?

One day, not too long ago, I was apologizing for something that wasn’t my fault, mostly to avoid conflict. It was so stressful my head felt like a pulsating bowling ball, and I was certain my brain would explode all over the carpet. As I marinated in my self-imposed remorse, a voice in my head finally spoke up:

“What are you doing? Stand up for yourself, girlfriend! How much more of this are you going to take before you land yourself in the psych ward?”

Wait… what? Who was this empowered voice interrupting my train of thought? Oh, right—it was me! The strong, independent woman I had buried somewhere deep inside.

But could I trust it? Should I trust it? What if something horrible happened if I actually listened to that voice?

Survival mechanisms start early on.

Compassion for My Inner Child

Like most kids, I learned early on that pleasing others was a surefire way to get love and attention. Turning up the compliance dial became my way of surviving the chaos around me. I stuffed my feelings down, figuring that being good would fix everything. Maybe, just maybe, if I were perfect enough, my dad would stop drinking, and my parents could finally give me what I needed: to feel safe, worthy, and loved.

But then came the moment when I had nothing left to give. I was running on empty, realizing I’d wither away unless I started nourishing myself. Listening to that voice inside became step one in reclaiming my life. Step two? Reacting differently. Instead of jumping to say “yes” immediately, I paused, giving myself time to consider my response.

Now, my go-to replies look a little more like this:

“That sounds fun, but I can’t do Thursday night. Thanks for the invite, though!”

Or:

“I’ll think about it and get back to you.”

Or, if I’m fast on the draw:

“Rats? Uh, not my favorite creatures. Also, my cats might make snacks of them, and I don’t think any of us want that!”

*Trust your gut instincts.

Trusting Yourself

As adults, we owe it to ourselves to look inward, listen to our gut instincts, and challenge the conditioned responses we’ve been living by. We need to unlearn the idea that self-sacrificing is a requirement for survival. Instead, we need to trust the inner voice waiting patiently to guide us toward a more fulfilling life.

The journey to self-awareness and change isn’t easy, but let me tell you, it’s profoundly freeing. It’s about allowing myself to say “No” when I need to, putting my well-being first, and fully accepting that I am enough—just as I am.

By sharing this story, I hope you’ll see that the patterns you’ve been living by don’t have to define your future. You have that same inner voice waiting to be heard. Trust it, nurture it, and let it guide you to a life where you’re no longer sacrificing yourself for others—but living in alignment with who you truly are.

*Photo from FreePik by: katemangostar

Elizabeth Ouellette is a Certified Rise 2 Realize life coach. Learn more about her here: https://www.rise2realize.com/coaches/elizabeth-ouellette.

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Embracing Anxiety: A Dialogue for Inner Strength

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The unwelcome visitor taps softly at my door. Dread. I know the intruder all too well. “Why now? Why today?” I shudder. And then it starts—hands trembling, heart racing, shallow breathing, uncontrollable ruminating. After two solid years of focused self-discovery and reflection, I thought I had rid myself of episodic panic. But here we go again. WTF.

So, what do I do? My first instinct is to run away and escape through music, meditation, TV, and reading, but the fear, tightness, and contraction lie just beneath the surface, like lava rising in a volcano, ready to erupt.

And then I ground myself and think, “Do the opposite.”

So, I change tactics. Instead of fleeing, I turn and address the beast, “Can we sit down and talk? Ignoring you just makes you more intense. I’m ready to hear you out, to understand why you hold me in a dreadfully tight headlock, making me fight for every breath. I’m tired of fighting. You have my undivided attention.”

Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock. Time slowly passes, but my anxiety remains quiet, closed off, and unresponsive. Its paralyzing grip icily pins me to the floor. Its silence is deafening. It’s like I don’t matter at all. “But, I do matter,” I remind myself.

“Please speak with me,” I beg. “I yearn to learn, to go deeper, to be informed.”

Nothing.

I sit calmly and flow with the palpitations, becoming one with the uncomfortable sensations I fear will never leave my everyday experience of the world.

“Is this an existential crisis?” I ask. “We live, we die, and no one really knows why. Maybe it would have been better to have never been born than to experience your surprise, overdrawn visits. Is it the need to control every aspect of my life, knowing nothing is really in my control?”

More thoughts interrupt—such shallow roots, torn out in the mildest of storms. I thought I was more enlightened, but was my sense of groundedness an illusion? These painful feet of mine cry out in agony, numb to the touch yet sensitive to a wisp of air. They search for a safe haven, a restorative cure, the strength and courage to hold my weight.

Back to my heart…

I think I hear a whisper. “What is it?” I cry. “Stand strong,” it murmurs. The voice evaporates before I can register its meaning. I think for a long while, and the mind attempts to derail my efforts: “If you stood up for what you believed in, you’d be ridiculed. You were ridiculed….met with scowls, beady eyes, grimaces, and mockery.”

More annoying thoughts rush in, “When God is angry, there is no hope for life on this earth, nor an afterlife without unbearable pain.”

“Hmmmmm, where did that come from?” I wonder. “How do I know this is true? Aren’t these remnants of patterns learned long ago? These are merely thoughts I’ve hung on to keep me safe, in my comfort zone, controlled by the mind.”

“Break free,” I whispered. And then I shout, “BREAK FREE!”

“Autonomy speaks to me. It resonates with my soul. Autonomy means listening to my gut and honoring my real self instead of being influenced by my mind’s admonishments, advice, moods, and energy. As an empath, I feel the energy of the world, and sometimes, everything feels weighty, overwhelming, or just too much, especially if I give without taking care of myself first. Following old patterns may feel safe, but acting without reflection comes at a hefty cost… my happiness.

I thank my anxiety for expressing itself, for opening up and keeping me out of harm’s way. I promise to listen more readily and embrace it and all other emotions (sadness, anger, grief, confusion, disappointment, shame, etc.) instead of habitually burying everything deep down, where wounds fester and refuse to heal.

My heartbeat slows, my breathing is no longer labored, and my chest expands. Ahhh, it heard me. I heard me! So many mysteries lie deep within the psyche; the more I explore, the freer I am. The journey through storms often feels impossibly painful, but once you come out the other side, reality takes on deep hues of vibrant color and excitement. You may even catch a glimpse of fun-loving unicorns and psychedelic rainbows. The view is amazingly rich!

Now, on to autonomy, self-assuredness, and inner strength to hold me upright and move forward on life’s path. Remember, in the end, it does not matter what others think. Stay true to yourself.

And take time to listen.

Stop Clowning Around: How I’m Learning to Sit Down For Myself

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I’d much rather be dressed up as a clown, complete with the red nose, oversized shoes, full face paint, and handing out balloons to kids all day than suffer through the agony of attending an upscale cocktail party. And before you ask, I’m not grappling with social anxiety, nor am I living like a recluse. In fact, I’m quite the extrovert and I thrive at parties. So, what’s the catch, you may wonder? It’s an unexpected culprit – my feet. For the past three decades, they’ve been my relentless tormentors, transforming every step into a torturous journey over hot coals. I even have a wheelchair tucked away in my shed, once used for museum outings or standing-room-only events. Today, it’s in our shed, gathering cobwebs. I’ve simply resorted to dodging situations that demand prolonged standing or involve terrain rougher than a football field. That, my friends, is a whole lot of avoidance.

The Trigger

So, when Executive Life Coach, Arda Ozdemir, approached me about a “LIVE” session showcasing his POWER method, I eagerly accepted the challenge. When he asked about a trigger, a situation causing an emotional reaction, I went straight to the embarrassment I experience when I feel different and out of place, like at fancy cocktail parties where standing for long periods is obligatory. Let’s just say my tolerance for standing is about 10 minutes before my feet start sending SOS signals demanding respite. Between you and me, my size 11 men’s extra-wide athletic shoes are far from a fashion statement at swanky soirees. I feel judged from the moment I shlump in wearing orthopedic Velcro sneakers until I blissfully waltz out the door.

Bar Tables. No Chairs??

I hoped my coaching session would provide some laugh-out-loud revelations on how to comfortably ignore my invisible disability, without attracting undue attention. It’s not about shyness; it’s about how I grapple with formal situations where people are numerous and chairs are as scarce as water in the desert. When I see a room full of tall bar tables, I want to crumble like a cookie in a messy heap on the floor. What’s the right amusing thing to say to tactfully draw attention to my plight? How do I blend in and distract from my unfashionable footwear? Should I wear clown shoes and pretend I just came from entertaining at a kid’s party? These thoughts swirl in my mind between winces of foot pain. And trust me, it’s not just my wild imagination at play – I have X-rays and doctor’s notes to prove it!

You May Be Crazy!

Am I Crazy?

Over the past 30 years, I’ve consulted with all types of doctors, who, at a loss for words, subtly hint that my pain is all in my head, suggesting I was a hypochondriac, a malingerer. While I do appreciate the limelight, it’s the positive kind I prefer – not the type where people stare at your unfashionable shoes and wonder why you are sitting on the floor. When the medical establishment can’t give a tangible diagnosis, it’s akin to having an imaginary unicorn horn protruding from your forehead. You schedule an appointment with a surgeon, who inspects your noggin with a magnifying glass and insists there’s nothing amiss. Meanwhile, you’re convinced you’re sporting a rhino-sized bone growth. Next thing you know, they’re calling in interns to gawk and reaching for straitjackets, convinced you need psychiatric help for your delusion. When authorities question your sanity, self-doubt, and confusion set in. Maybe I am losing my marbles, I pondered. It’s a profoundly isolating experience that leads to questioning one’s own mental health.

Seismic Shift in 20 Minutes
In that 20-minute coaching event with Arda, my perspective underwent a seismic shift where I was able to see the whole situation from a different vantage point. This wasn’t just about feeling different; it was about the perception of weakness and the fear of not being loved for who I am inside – a person with stylin’ orthopedic shoes! As we delved deeper into my psyche, I unearthed childhood memories that were dictating my behaviors and reactions. I was constantly operating under the constraints of a limiting life script!

As we unpacked this personal trauma and released its grip on my heart, my cloudy view of the past became crystal clear. I thought about my son who was born with a progressive nerve disease. I never once perceived him as weak or fragile. I believed he could conquer the world; I wanted him to know he was capable, invincible, and deeply cherished. Throughout his childhood, my message was clear: go out there and embrace your talents because you are worthy, skilled, and unbeatable. And that’s exactly how he lives his life – unshackled and in the moment.

The Epiphany

During our session, I experienced a remarkable epiphany. I realized I had never fully embraced the philosophy of “you can achieve anything you set your mind to” when it came to myself. I had chosen to ignore the podiatric elephant in the room by pretending to fit a singular vision of “normal.” But the truth is, there’s no universal definition of normal – normal is relative, unique to each individual like a fingerprint. Everyone has quirks that make them distinctive. So rather than masking my pain, I could acknowledge it as an intrinsic part of my identity.

Why was I willing to believe this empowering message wholeheartedly for others but not myself? I had loathed standing out in any way, trying to keep my pesky foot problems under wraps. Year after year, I tiptoed cautiously through life, keeping up an act of perfect health, sidestepping events that put my foot troubles front and center. But most likely, people wouldn’t have judged me as harshly as I imagined. Most would probably respond with empathy and understanding.

Solutions

So how can I reshape my future social butterfly wings? When faced with a chairless situation, Arda and I pondered alternative approaches. Instead of desperately seeking a hidden bench or chair to sink into while blinking back tears, I could try a different strategy. Why not use those precious 10 minutes of standing to initiate a lively conversation about the joys of orthopedic shoes and steer us toward seating? Or better yet, make a preemptive call to the event venue to ensure seating options for those of us with limited standing endurance. Who would decline such a reasonable request? And even if they did, who cares? I’m sure most venues come with chairs and I’d easily find someone else eager to engage in a seated tête-à-tête.

Conclusion

In just 20 minutes, Arda guided me through the POWER process, and it revolutionized my perspective on my foot fiasco. I realized you don’t need to remain trapped in old patterns and stories. With an open mind and a willingness to change habitual behaviors, there are always avenues to bring light and joy into your life. It’s not about the shoes…….it’s all about feeling safe, self-confident, and aware.

Learn More About the POWER Method: www.askarda.com

Learn More about CMT: www.cmtausa.org

The Early or Late Conundrum

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Always 10 minutes late? Or do you prefer being 15 minutes early? Does your spouse always have to do yet another task before leaving the house? Are you and your family quarreling endlessly about when to leave for an on-time arrival? First, stop fighting! Then, explore the possible reasoning behind each person’s viewpoint. Get curious, ask questions, and try to understand why people behave as they do. A glimpse into the past is the first step in getting to where you want to go with a smile!

It was a blustery winter afternoon in the San Francisco Bay Area; I was in my car’s passenger seat, waiting impatiently for my driver (my husband) to meet friends for a show in San Jose. As splotches of rain dropped messily on the windshield, I felt anxious about possibly arriving late. It was a Friday night with traffic, slippery highways, road ragers, etc. The plan was to leave at 6:00 pm, but at 6:06 pm, I was still sitting in a parked car in front of my home, thinking, “Wow, how disrespectful. A 6 pm departure is the same in every language, right? Why can’t he just be on time for a change?”

My thoughts screeched to a halt as I saw my husband walking hurriedly toward the car, covering his head with the hood of his rain jacket. But instead of hopping into the car, he flew by me, hauling the garbage bin down our long flag lot driveway. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I fumed.

He was in the driver’s seat eight minutes later, soaking wet, keys in the ignition, and announced playfully, “Buckle up!” At first, he was completely oblivious to my annoyance until he saw my face (after 30 years, he knows the look), which said it all, and so much more. Attempting to lighten the mood, he added, “Don’t worry, we’ll be on time!” “I hope so, ” I whispered while focusing on relaxation, my breath, and the melodic drumming of rain on the windshield.

At that moment, I had a choice on how to react. I could have become angry, ruining the evening, or stayed grounded and let it go. I decided it wasn’t worth the headache, so I let it go. The upside is I didn’t have to bring the garbage down the driveway in the rain!

Can we both be right?

Who is Right?

Before getting into yet another circular argument about his chronic 5–10-minute late performances, I asked Arda, “Don’t you think he’s being selfish and disrespectful? I mean, he did prioritize garbage over me!”

With a hint of a smile, Arda lets me in on a secret, “I used to be three or four minutes late for everything. Do you know why I used to run 3-4 minutes late,” he asked rhetorically. “I never felt as though there were enough minutes in a day to finish what I’d set out to do. I was in a constant state of anxiety about not maximizing my time. My yearning to be efficient pushed me to send out one last email, put away one straggling item, and complete one forgotten task.” 

“Arda, you sound like my husband,” I exclaimed. “I’ve read about people like you. I’m officially pathologizing your behavior, diagnosing you with one more task syndrome,” I joked.  

“Oh, really,” he asked with raised eyebrows. “I’m so glad I finally received a diagnosis! Thank you.”

He added, “Elizabeth, do you really think your husband is thinking, ‘Well, she hasn’t been angry in a while. I will take my sweet time tonight, so she’ll be upset and won’t talk to me all evening. Let’s do this thing!’ “

“No. Of course not,” I replied. “I never really thought about the whys of the matter, focusing instead on how frustrated I felt.”

Arda continues, “From time to time, I still struggle with being on time; I may occasionally run 1-2 minutes late, but I’ve realized this tendency results from my past conditioning. Thanks to my meditation practice and inward journey, I can resist sending that last-minute email or running into the kitchen to get that glass of water.”

“Well, Arda, you and I are exact opposites regarding this debate,” I admit. “I was taught if you were on time, you were already 10 minutes late. So, when I have a meeting, a Zoom client session, or a dinner date, I am almost always 10 minutes early. Why? I’d rather have time to spare than be held up by traffic, fiddle with tech issues, or deal with computer glitches. I want to be early to maintain my composure, get grounded, and appear together.”

What are you really afraid of?

Playing devil’s advocate, Arda asks me to visualize my being 5 minutes late for a scheduled Zoom call. “How do you feel,” he asks. “What are you really afraid of?”

With a pounding heart, I admit, “I feel extremely anxious, ashamed, and afraid my clients will think I’m disorganized, disrespectful, and incompetent.”

Challenging those thoughts, he asks, “Are those thoughts true? Will your clients really think that?”

“No. Well, I don’t really know, but I don’t think so.” I replied. “Now that I think about it, these thoughts belong to me, remnants of past conditioning. I’ve never really tested out the truth behind the fears. Like my dad, I associate tardiness with disorganization and chaos. I still carry those beliefs, which obviously are not serving me well.”

Then Arda threw a doozy at me, “Have you ever considered what a client might think if they ran late? Since you are strict with your time, they may feel awful about being late to one of your client sessions.“

“Hmmmmm,” I ponder. “I never thought of that. It’s a possibility. Adopting different perspectives sure does help understand oneself and others, doesn’t it?” 

Putting the focus back on Arda, I inquire, “So, why did you decide to work on changing your 3-4-minute late tendency?”

He immediately answers, “Because I don’t like the stress you try to avoid.”

“Now we’re talking,” I exclaimed. “We are all so different yet so alike in many ways. Fascinating!”

 Returning to my 5-minute late husband ordeal, I now realize he was not purposely trying to be late or to get me to react. An entirely different story unfolded. Knowing him well and reflecting upon his own past conditioning, he was probably just trying to be ultra-efficient with his time by doing what he’s always done – fitting in that one last task. The first step to understanding the root cause of his behavior was getting curious, asking questions, and understanding the framework within which he operates. It all started to make sense.

I still don’t want to be sitting idle in a car waiting for him to finish up last-minute to-do items, but now that I know why he does it, we can have a calm and collected conversation. “Honey, we need to talk!”

In a future article, I’ll explain how we worked together to reach a  compromise that works for both of us and meets our communal needs. It’s a work in progress, but with a bit of digging and a few invaluable Rise 2 Realize communication tools, the results will astonish.

This article was created from the materials gathered in an Ask Arda podcast featuring Elizabeth and Arda Ozdemir.

Elizabeth is a Certified Rise 2 Realize Life Coach.

Arda Ozdemir is a spiritual mentor, author of the book Getting Unstuck and founder of Rise 2 Realize Life Coaching School and Ask Arda Coaching.

http://www.rise2realize.com