Widen the View
Over the summer solstice weekend, I joined two of my long-time girlfriends for a getaway on little Anderson Island in south Puget Sound.
Over the summer solstice weekend, I joined two of my long-time girlfriends for a getaway on little Anderson Island in south Puget Sound.
The summer after graduating from college in 1983, I moved into a mid-century house in Seattle’s hip Green Lake neighborhood with a couple of long-time girlfriends. Life was full of bliss and delicious irresponsibility.
Our minds work very hard to make something out of nothing. Sometimes, we build entire stories out of a glance, a silence, a misplaced word. We convince ourselves we’re being abandoned or adored, rejected or redeemed—when really, it’s our fear (or hope) doing the heavy lifting. The truth often hides under the story we’ve told ourselves.
“…this coach—whoever she is—is seriously messing with your head…” That’s what my client’s husband said after more than 25 years of marriage. Why? Because she started changing. She started remembering who she was. A well-educated, high-achieving woman who had given up a dream career, spent decades managing the household, raising the kids, organizing everyone’s lives, and keeping herself so busy just to avoid the pain of feeling completely forgotten and invisible. All while married to a man who expected control over everything—from which toothpaste she bought to how she expressed her own feelings.