My mother passed away on February 1st. Our relationship was not an easy one. I made peace with that before her passing, yet the feelings still can knock me off center.
Grief is a twisted, turning path that dips and turns on a dime when you least expect it. You can go from laughter to tears in the blink of an eye. Anger can swell like tsunami, uncertainty slides in, and you find yourself staring off into the distance. Memories swirl around you like gale force winds that no one else around you feels. Fear hits like a fist when you realize you can’t remember the sound of their voice, or the feel of their touch, and the loss rolls over you again, raw and jagged.
The cycle continues at random, in strange intervals, enough to keep you on edge. You feel like you are held together with barbed wire and grit, with nothing but your sheer will to make it through another day without them.
You long for someone to truly understand what you feel, to give you a soft place to land. Having a safe place to fall apart seems like a luxury you will never know. No one stands ready to help put you back together again. The person who was supposed to do that, be that for you, is the one who is gone.
It is not a job for the faint of heart. No one steps forward for the job.
I came home to a house alone. No one there to hold my cares, a painful heart torn apart. One more grief stain in a world of too much pain. It seems I’ve hit a wall, and I have no safe place for my tears to fall.
When chaos is all you have ever known, it feels like it’s just your lot in life. It seems impossible to break free. Peace is a concept that is hard to grasp in that space. Good feels uncomfortable, like something you will never be worthy of. Fear sounds like the voice of reason. Fear sounds like good advice and risk management. It has prevented me from embracing opportunities. Bear Grylls said, “Without risk, there can be no growth.”
Don’t get me wrong, your fight, flight, or freeze instincts are there for a good reason. Fear is a protective measure at times. Those instincts propelled our civilization forward and kept us from extinction.
Oftentimes, though, our past experiences creep into our minds. The still small voice of God is overtaken by the demons of our anxieties, tormentors, and negative self-talk. We create an inner critic who creates a shame-based belief system. We develop all-or-nothing thinking: “I made one mistake, I’m so stupid.” We overgeneralize things: “This always happens to me, I’ll never amount to anything.” We catastrophize things: “If I show them the real me, something awful will come of it.” We try to mind-read a situation, saying things like, “They are just being nice because they pity me.” We personalize things: “This is all my fault, I should have prevented it.”
These lies become our truth and keep us rooted in misguided thoughts and fear. Sometimes we become so rooted in these beliefs that we let the goodness God has for us pass by us. We refuse the possibility that God has better plans for us. We become defeated before we ever get out of the gate. We unconsciously create self-fulfilling prophecies where relationships, jobs, or business opportunities are shut down because our negative self-beliefs sabotage us.
The things God intends for you eventually come to pass. This belief holds, IF you can let go and trust in God’s plan. God has repeatedly put things or people in my path that I let pass by out of fear. I was too afraid to take the risk. Years later, the same situation came up. By then, my faith in His plan far outweighed my fear, so I opened myself up to the risk. What God had for me was better than I could have imagined.
When you live in constant chaos, your senses become desensitized and normalize the chaos. Your brain tells you, this is how it is, this is how we live. You lose hope and accept what your brain tells you. You no longer believe change is possible. Chaos becomes your comfort zone.
An old adage says, “the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.” Meaning someone may prefer a difficult situation over an unknown one, even if the unknown one is better. The familiar feels predictable and safer, even if it is flawed. People fear uncertainty, and they allow that fear to rule their lives.
Science tells us that our response is often a normal result of trauma. Things we’ve racked up to poor decisions may have actually been our body’s response to trauma. These responses could relate to traumas that were never resolved in our lives. Trauma from childhood or relationships that we thought were long since over affects us daily. It creeps into our thought process without our even being aware of it. We are at home in the chaos and don’t even see it.
Emotional safety allows us to reset the pattern and to heal. But what does that even look like? Have you ever felt emotionally safe with someone? It is a sense of being secure, accepted, and valued in a relationship or environment. There is no fear of being judged, shamed, manipulated, dismissed, or punished for your thoughts, feelings, needs, or mistakes. When you feel emotionally safe, you can be honest, vulnerable, and authentic.
Trust, respect, stability, and non-judgment are crucial elements. Communication, support, empathy, and freedom also play parts in creating a space where there is emotional safety. When those elements are lacking, you will feel anxious, guarded, silenced, or on edge, like you are walking on eggshells.
Many people think that by avoiding conflict, they can create a safe space. However, creating a steady environment where people know they are respected, heard, and secure is what creates a safe space. Avoiding conflict creates a quiet type of harm. Avoidance teaches people that your needs aren’t important. You lose your boundaries and respect. Resentment builds, and you no longer feel seen or understood.
There will always be conflict in life. Building a relationship where you feel emotionally safe gives you the tools to handle disagreements. You learn to protect dignity and emotional security. It fosters connection while still addressing the conflict. The goal isn’t to avoid the issue but to navigate it without fear, hostility, or harm. Strive for understanding, not the win. Understanding builds where judgment tears down.
Coming from a life of chaos, I had to learn to calm my anxiety and fear. I need predictability; I had to create consistency in my life—consistent tone, reactions, and behaviors. I need clear boundaries, known expectations, and routine. I also require calm communication. Screaming, yelling, lies, and blame immediately put me on edge. I need honest but gentle communication. I need time and quiet to process my thoughts. It took me years to learn this about myself. I realized that if I required those things, I also had to give them in return. Life lessons always require you to put what you learn into action.
Another trigger for me, and many others, is statements that begin with you always or you never, or you make me…I am allowed to feel however I feel. I do not have the right or the power to make anyone feel any kind of way. Their feelings are their choice, just as mine are my choice.
I am a very non-judgmental person because I was so judged as a child. I know this about myself. Words were weapons in my home. Therefore, it is hard for me to bear using words to shame, mock, belittle, or threaten someone. That taught me the gift of acceptance. I accept people as they are. I can usually see where someone is coming from, even if I don’t agree with them. That is where the rubber really meets the road in creating a chaos-free environment.
Understanding that people may hold different viewpoints or beliefs is essential. Getting along despite differences is something the world has forgotten how to do. People should be able to express their feelings without fear of retaliation in a relationship. They should not fear emotional withdrawal or rejection from people they care about.
Oftentimes, relationships (especially romantic ones) are the hardest places to share feelings. As humans, we sometimes feel the need to keep score of perceived wrongs. We might try to manipulate or guilt-trip people into thinking as we do. We think it validates us when validation is unnecessary. People are allowed to have their own thoughts and feelings. I am not required to agree with them. That is ok. Stranger still, we can still be friends. What an amazing concept!
Leaving the chaos that feels like comfort can be scary. There is deep peace in trusting that God’s plans for you are greater than your own.
It starts with you. Learn to recognize your own triggers. Pay attention to what makes you feel uncomfortable or anxious. Utilize grounding techniques like taking a step back when things get heated. Be self-aware and avoid unloading your chaos onto others. Start with an attitude of gratitude, celebrate small wins, and personal strengths. Create patterns of praise, check-ins, prayers, meditation, or reflective times, show appreciation often, and make time for rest. If you’re ready to break old patterns and build a life grounded in peace and purpose, I’m here to help. Email charminfoth@gmail.com to schedule a coaching session, or visit my website charminfoth.com.
I’ve been single for 5 years now. I didn’t even start to date until 2 years after Andy’s unexpected death. Over the last three years, I have conducted an anthropological study of dating in the modern world, of sorts. I don’t recommend it. It has taught me so much. I’ve learned who I am being single, living for myself, I know what I want. Most importantly I know what I need from a person for them to be MY PERSON.
The truth is, I’m happy being me and being single. I like me. It hasn’t always been that way. My story is not an easy one to tell, and maybe someday, I’ll share. Those are definitely tales for another day. I’m a work in progress; there is always room for growth.
Would I like to be in a relationship? Absolutely! Am I willing to let it destroy my peace? NO!
I’ve come to value peace, time, and treasure the important things. Life can change in an instant. Many of the lessons I use as a litmus test in dating come from my best friend of 26 years. Having been married to my best friend is both a blessing and a curse now that I’m single. I know the things I could have done better. I know what a good relationship acts like, what it feels like. That makes my tolerance for BS much lower. It also makes me see how most relationships today are not friendly ones. That’s sad, because that’s what makes it truly worth it. I’m grateful for what I’ve had.
One of the best lessons I learned in life actually came from Andy’s career. You see, one of his many jobs in the military was an electronics technician. They were constantly testing equipment to find what had failed and what needed to be made right. In so many ways, he applied that technique to our marriage and to our lives.
I remember one day I was doing laundry, and the start button on the washer fell inside the control panel. Andy happened to hear my few choice words and came to see what the problem was. He said the washer wasn’t beyond repair. He opened the control panel and found the right circuit and the remains of the now-defunct button. He resoldered the circuit so the current would flow where it needed to go. He created a workaround for the broken button. This memory makes me laugh. We had to use a long pencil with a soft eraser on the end to reach the on/off circuit. It worked; he repaired what was broken. Then he followed up, time and time again, to make sure his fixes held in place.
He called it assurance testing. He wanted to make sure the problem didn’t get worse. Checking that it didn’t need something more, that it was good. Most importantly that it was able to do what it was designed to do. We used that washer for years after that fix. As a matter of fact, when I sold our little farm, I was going to get rid of the washer. The couple that bought the house kept it. I had to write the instructions on the top of the washer. The pencil fix worked, and they continued to use it. That made my heart happy.
I apply this Assurance Testing to my life every day, not just in dating. But it may be the reason I’ll be single for the foreseeable future. This philosophy makes me a better person. It’s not about dating, it’s about life and how I do life. Yes, I want someone to share my life, the keyword is SHARE. It’s not about leading or being led. It’s about being best friends and doing life WITH someone. Someone who is invested in the relationship will check in. They will want to know that I am good, to make sure things aren’t coming undone. They will want to know if I need something to get through the day. They will want to encourage me and see that I’m living life to the best of my abilities. That’s what they will get from me, so it’s reciprocal. It’s a mutuality that makes relationships work; things can’t be all one-sided.
Another thing I learned while living with an electronics tech is about dirty power and bad data. Dirty power refers to high-frequency noise, interference, or other distortions that contaminate the standard AC power waveform, essentially “polluting” the power supply. This electrical pollution can lead to potential equipment malfunction, reduced efficiency, and, in some cases, has been known to affect health. Bad data is just what it sounds like: bad information. You’ve probably heard the phrase, garbage in, garbage out. That’s bad data.
My point here is that there are too many distractions, too much noise, and interference in modern romantic relationships, and it pollutes and corrupts rather than giving strength. Pay attention to where you get your information from…think about what the person is telling you. What do they have at stake? Are they just looking for more followers? Do they really have your best interests at heart? Is it hearsay or truth? Not everything you hear is real, especially on social media and with the rise of AI. Bad data in equals bad outcomes.
Make decisions for yourself. Make informed decisions. Listen to your gut. Focus on what you are putting into the relationship. If you are not getting that reciprocated, it’s time to examine that relationship and put that Assurance Test to work. Take an honest look at what the problem is. Talk about it. Can it be fixed? What do WE need to do differently? How can we keep this from happening again? What needs to happen to make it work as it was intended? It isn’t a me or a you thing; it has to be a we thing.
Relationships can’t exist if only one person is working on it. That’s not a relationship, that’s a delusion, an idea of what you think a relationship should be. You can’t date someone for who you want them to be. They have to have the substance of what you need first. Know your worth, love yourself. Toxic people can do so much damage to your heart, the longer you give them access to you. No relationship is worth stealing your peace.
I’ve been told that I’m comparing relationships to a ghost, that I’m too picky, and I’m whatever. The fact is, if a man doesn’t check in with me, if he doesn’t care about what’s going on in my life enough to ask, how can he expect me to care about his life? If we aren’t checking in with each other, he won’t be there when bad things happen, and I won’t know if bad things are happening with him. And bad things will happen; that’s just a matter of time, they always do. I don’t want an after-the-fact type of relationship.
We all need people who are willing to stand in the gaps WITH us. In order to HAVE that, I believe you have to BE that.
So yeah, maybe I am too picky, but I have this crazy idea that relationships are meant to be more. Your person needs to be the best part of your daily life support system, and you need to be theirs; otherwise, what’s the point?
Keep on testing, friends; I’m going to give it a rest for a while. There has to be something better out there.
If you are a fan of my upbeat, inspirational posts, spoiler alert. This will not be that.
The day is closing on my birthday. My first day of year 59. It began with a funeral and ended with a car wreck. Before you fret too much, everyone is okay, and so on with the story. Today has been an unusual mix of emotions, sweetness, sorrow, excitement, and fear.
As I said earlier, I spent the morning at a military funeral. It wasn’t long ago I was in that very same chapel waiting for the guns to fire, taps to be played and the flag folded and passed. A military funeral is both reverence and history. The lone trumpet playing Taps evokes a sadness that is not just yours, but the sadness of all those who have experienced that pain before you. It is a history of pain, isolation, and mourning. Taps is played every day on a military post to signal the end of the day. When it is played, life on post stops, people get out of their cars, stop doing whatever they are doing, and soldiers face the flag as it comes down for the day and salute. It is signaling soldiers to lay down their burdens and rest. At the end of life, it signals that soldier have completed their earthly mission and can now be at peace. All of this is why Taps brings me to my knees every time.
After Taps played this morning, I walked away from the chapel, made my way to a now-familiar bench, and had a conversation. To those looking on, it may have seemed one-sided, or that I was a little crazy talking to myself, but to me, it was a conversation with my best friend, who I miss more than words can even begin to express. A feeling of peace settles over me when we talk of life moving on without him here. I told Andy that I understood his time was not my time. I’ve realized that even though things have been challenging and downright scary at times, I wouldn’t change anything. I know that sounds harsh, but it is true.
Years and years ago, Andy and I talked about how we were in a certain place at a certain time for a reason, and we were given a gift at that moment in time. Our friendship superseded everything, we both had past baggage and troubles, some horrific things most would see as obstacles. You see, if you change one single thing, either good or bad, the trajectory of your life shifts and you are no longer in alignment to be in that moment in time to receive a gift you didn’t even know you needed. Andy’s death led me to the next point on my path and whatever that point brings, I know I’m meant to be there and I’m grateful for the gift.
So when I sat on that bench in the sunshine, talking to a man who was no longer here for me, I knew he understood what I meant. Crazy, right? I know things have worked out just as they were supposed to, even though sometimes I wish they were different. The God of the Universe still has plans for me, he keeps pushing me in a direction I can’t yet see, but I know there is a gift when I get there.
I am very blessed to have people who love and care for me. That was never more obvious than today. My brother called to wish me a happy birthday, my sister-in-law texted a big “Happy Birthday,” and hundreds of folks wished me happy birthday on social media. The ladies in my office took me out for lunch. They encouraged me and loved on me. They made a hard morning a better day.
After work another friend wanted to celebrate with me. I met a dear friend for dinner, and jazz afterward. Dinner was wonderful. Sadly, we didn’t make it to the jazz. We left the restaurant and I had to take a call for work, so I was a few minutes behind her. As I made my way to our destination I was stopped due to an accident. When I saw it was my friend, my stomach dropped to my knees. She was hit almost head-on as she pulled out from a light. Luckily, she was ok. She had banged up knees, and a few other aches and pains. The car was totaled. She was so lucky it wasn’t worse. I was thankful I could be there for her, I stayed with her, cleaned out her car, took her home, and got her settled. Let the people she needed to know, know. She kept apologizing for messing up my birthday. I felt terrible she was hurt trying to do something nice for me. I wouldn’t have been anywhere else. If I hadn’t been there, who would’ve? That’s what you do, right?
We are meant to share each other’s burdens when the world becomes heavy. Then why do I feel as if I’m carrying more than my share?
I don’t have all the answers, I am not perfect, but I am authentic. If I care about you and you care about me, that’s community. Community is very important to me. I will go through hell and back with you, help you find what you need, help you carry your burdens. Community is not about doing life alone.
Yet…that’s where I am. Life alone, who pours into you, lifts you up, hugs away your hurts, lets you cry on their shoulders when you need to, when you no longer have a person? You give, who gives back? I am not perfect. Sometimes I am empty, sometimes I am tired, sometimes I hurt, and sometimes I need someone to be authentic for me, and care for me. I have always been the caregiver, so I struggle with accepting the very thing I need, care.
Is it easy? No. There are things in my soul that I keep bumping up against. This is where it gets dark, where the hard things get too heavy to carry, where life alone becomes unbearable. But what do you do? Carry on.
It doesn’t come all at once, it comes in the quiet moments when I’m alone and it hurts just a little too much. The times when all I want is a person to be MY person, to listen when I share, to care, to spend time with me and enjoy my company as much as I do theirs, someone to call and ask how my day was and I ask them about their day, someone who gets my weird humor and I can laugh alongside, to share stories, people watch, stream videos or just sit in comfortable silence together over a cup of coffee. Today, I realized I miss having a person most of all and it hurt me to my core. I’m crying as I type this. Cherish your people.
Now, does that mean I will do anything to get a person? Absolutely not! I learned a while back, never to do anything out of the fear of being alone. It is not worth it and it leads to self-doubt and self-loathing.
I don’t need to be married, I don’t know that I’ll ever get married again. Only time will tell, I guess. I don’t want to take over someone’s home or them take over mine. I don’t want someone to complete me, or be my first last kiss or any of that other corny crap that people put on dating profiles.
What I long for is a person I can rely on. For me, that person is a man, who is ride or die, hell or high water there for me and me for them. I miss true connection, true friendship, and someone who will be ok if I cry on their shoulder, and I’m there if they need to cry on mine. I’ve got their back if they need me. I miss having MY person, my go-to when the world goes to crap. Someone who makes me feel safe and that I trust. I miss hugs.
I know I sound whiny, and today I guess I am. Retrospect can be that way. Don’t get me wrong, I love my girlfriends, but they can’t do that for me. I’m not alone, but I FEEL alone. I have people. I have a tribe that loves and cares about me. My friends have been sounding boards when I need to process, they have sat in silence with me when I had no words, they have shared laughter when I never thought I’d laugh again, they have sung with me no matter how off-key I am, they have given my heart a song when the music in me was silent.
All of this is hard for me to admit, I’m not what many people see. I’m not strong. I need someone to give back and to care for me. I need someone who can be all the things I am to others, for me, to pour in what I have poured out. I have taken care of myself for so long that I have forgotten how to ask for help, and how to be vulnerable.
They call it resilience, but that doesn’t make it any easier to carry the weight. Strong independent women seem to have it all together, the perception is that they don’t need anything or anyone. Strong women don’t fall apart when things get tough, they handle tough situations with apparent ease, and they rarely lose control in front of others. You don’t see us screaming into our pillows or crying in the shower so no one sees our tears. Even though the burdens weigh us down, we struggle to our feet and keep going, because we have to. Not because we want to.
I believe this is the curse of a strong independent woman.
Have you ever been shaken awake and realized you were living someone else’s dream and not your own?
In 2020, in the height of the pandemic, my husband of almost 25 years died from a massive stroke. He was 52 and I was 55. I was shattered into a million pieces. A middle aged woman who felt absolutely invisible. I had to figure out how to go forward alone. How do I do life? I was in shock, going through a lot of emotions and just barely making it a step at a time.
We had 32 acres and a little farm with chickens and goats. We also had a little tiny farmhouse that was almost 100 years old and needed constant work. I was isolated in the country, and felt all alone in the world. During COVID there was not a lot of personal contact, so much so that we had a funeral on zoom. There was one there to hug me when I fell apart.
A month after the funeral was Christmas. My first Christmas alone in a very long time. It would have been Andrew’s 53rd birthday. December felt impossible. Friends knew I was struggling and asked me to come spend Christmas with them. That positive energy felt like a lifeline.
We had a wonderful white Christmas! It rarely snows in Knoxville, Tennessee in December. It snowed almost a foot on Christmas Eve. It was beautiful. Christmas Day was breakfast and presents. We watched Christmas movies and talked girl talk. It was blissful. A wonderful escape from the reality I felt crushing me. I went home feeling energized.
When I drove down the driveway, through the untouched snow, I noticed a river of water running down the drive. I knew a pipe had burst. We had lived on this piece of land for 18 years. I felt completely defeated. In that moment the world stood completely still. I stopped the car, pounded on the steering wheel and screamed at the top of my lungs.
In the quiet that followed I heard the Spirit in my Soul whisper, “You have faithfully served a great love here and have lived someone else’s dream for long enough, it is time to find your own dream now.”
That day, I had clarity. I knew it was time to let go of the farm, despite all the advice not to make any big changes during the grieving process. I had to do what was right for me. I began searching for what my dream would be.
Slowly, one step at a time, I started taking baby steps toward living a life that I love. I began building a vision of what I want my life to be.
After my realization, I found other people had the same type of experience. They had a hard time learning how to dream again.
Most children dream daily, they can see and embrace their dreams. They act them out, they feel the joy in pretending their vision is happening now. As adults, we often lose the ability to just let go and dream. If you have lived through significant trauma you find it even harder to dream. Life seems to limit everything. But what if you could dream a new dream? What would it be?
So I felt a calling to help others live a life they love, to help them remember how to dream, to teach others steps to move forward, even if it is baby steps. You can climb Mount Everest if you continue taking one step forward at a time.
I made a major step in that direction. I invested in myself for the first time ever. I studied, I put in the work on myself. Today, I became a certified Dream Builder Life Coach.
I am so excited about what the futre has for me. And for you too! If you would like to know more, please let me know. In the weeks to come you will notice a new website here and also new Facebook and Instagram pages. I will still share the positive vibes I have always put out, they will just be a bit more focused.
Thanks for being here for me and thanks for reading.
On a Roll with Charmin 