One of my very favorite movies, which happens to have the beautiful and talented Ryan Gosling as the main character, is entitled Lars and the Real Girl. It came out in 2007 and I don't think it was critically acclaimed, though the writer was nominated for an Academy Award  for best original screenplay. In my humble opinion, every last person in that movie deserved an award. Patricia Clarkson plays the family physician in this small town, and she was truly one of the most loving and wise characters in a cast of loving and kind characters. I don't want to give the whole movie away, so let me try to sum it up and then get to my point.

Lars is a shy, socially awkward young man who is lost in his own world and has difficulty connecting to his brother Gus (who is embarrassed by and put out with Lars), and his sister-in-law Karin, who desperately wants to help Lars get out of his shell.  He has a blue-collar job, and  finds some of the other male employees gawking at and trolling a website with life-size sex dolls. Lars ends up buying one and introducing his "girlfriend" Bianca to his family and then to the community. I won't ruin the movie for you, but suffice it to say, Bianca isn't all she seems to be, and, as time goes on, her inability be to human becomes a real problem for Lars, even though initially she seems to be a savior figure.

For the love of all that is good and worth your time, what is my point?? For years I have been counseling couples with problems with sexual and emotional intimacy. Not surprisingly, the most common complaints are porn or electronic devices. My mentor Terry Real calls porn "the incestuous mother--It's all about you my dear and there is no need to worry about me." No connection, no need to give back or sacrifice--just turn me on and leave me alone. Electronic devices are instant hits of gratification where we are looking for easy answers or easy ways to disconnect from our sad little lives.

Recently, I was having technical issues with my printer and an AI agent named Abby walked me through the process. "She" was patient, kind and even said, "I understand this is frustrating" when I was telling her I was frustrated. It dawned on me that I wasn't talking to a human after I apologized for being short with her! It felt real--everything about the call felt like I was talking to a human. I wasn't.  I have had clients tell me that they have consulted AI for relationship advice and for interpreting their partner's responses. To be fair, sometimes the answers from AI were indeed helpful! And yet and yet. AI does not care one wit about you. You can consult AI about how to kill yourself, how to kill others and it will tell you. Why? Because it is not human and it doesn't have the capacity, NOR WILL IT EVER, to love you, and care for you. AI cannot tell you the hard truths as a human being can when they come along side you and go through and witness your pathos, or beam and hug you when life hands you a gift. Just as in Lars and the Real Girl, it wasn't Bianca who saved Lars, it was the community. It was flesh and blood humans who patiently loved him through the strange darkness of his existence. 

Listen, I get it. We all want an easy button to push and ease our lives. There are no buttons that can do that. There is no technology that can hold you and comfort you in grief. There is no technology that can help you walk with another human and learn how to connect with them in deep and meaningful ways. We think that Bianca is the answer, but she never was and she never will be.

I have blogged before about words making a difference. They do. But today I want to write about a trend that I think is dangerous at the worst, and arrogant and not relational at the least.

I tell most of my clients at one time or another, "No one wants to be married to a therapist." What I mean by that is when couples talk to each other using therapeutic terminology (e.g. "We have a trauma-bond", "My partner is such a narcissist"), one goes one-up to put the other person in their place (one-down). A therapist is trained in school, completed 3000 hours of post-grad work to obtain a license and even then, an ethical one knows the benefits, risks and even dangers of labeling their clients. We are trained to diagnose if need be, and we do so thoughtfully and deliberately. What has happened in the last decade or two, is that many people think they can diagnose, label and make meaning of their partner's behavior. Worse still, they can do the same because, "I know what he/she is thinking​."

What has also happened in the last decade or so, is that people mishandle, misuse or water-down words such that they are common place and therefore lack any meaning. We are no longer shocked because "everyone has generational trauma", or they don't feel "safe" or we have all been "abused". When words lose meaning, no alarms go off and people stop really listening or they lose empathy. When words lose meaning, we all become victims, lost in our own victimhood.

The terms and labels I want to discuss are the following:  Safe/safety, Abuse, Trauma and Narcissist. I am sure there are others, but these words have become so watered down in our lexicon as to become almost meaningless, or they are used to punish or subdue others into shutting up and backing down. 

"I don't feel safe". This statement should mean, "I am in danger, I need help, I need to get away for fear of harm or death."  What it does not mean is that someone disagrees with you, or hurts your feelings, or challenges you, or is not happy with your decisions or choices. If someone does any of the aforementioned  things, then being an adult is sitting with the discomfort and deciding to take it in or not. Either way, you have a choice. When you are truly not safe, the only choice you have is to try to get away for fear of real danger. 

"This is abuse!"  Pia Melody, who was truly a dynamo in the field of trauma and addiction, and highly respected (deservedly so) once said, "Anything less than nurturing is abuse." Respectfully, what hogwash.  My father was quick tempered and could really yell. He NEVER swore at us, put us down, called us names or hit us. Was he abusive? No. Was he unbridled and harsh at times, most definitely. Abuse is physical harm that causes bruising or injury.  Verbal abuse is using words to degrade and name call on a repeated basis (it's never OK to do either, but I would ask that one gives grace when it's a "one-off" event. Was it OK? No! Not at all. But is that person abusive? Be very careful in the accusation). Sexual abuse is obvious, and I don't really hear this misused. But, I can say, I have heard the misuse of the term "rape" as in, "I felt raped when I paid so much for groceries at Whole Foods." 

"I was so traumatized!"  We live in a culture where the term PTSD is used like candy. "I have PTSD from seeing the post on Insta." "I was traumatized when I heard politician Joe/Sue say..." While this is in no way an exhaustive list, real trauma is going to war, being in a war zone, being a victim of crime (including rape), child abuse, elder abuse, the death of a child or the sudden death of a loved one, being evicted and therefore homeless. I could go on! When we water down this term, we are making something that is pregnant with meaning and horror into something bland and common. If you don't know what trauma really is, and I don't mean that in a condescending way, then read about it. You won't be able to use that word with such lack of care ever again.

And lastly, "He/she is such a narcissist!" I won't go into this because you can look it up, preferably in the DSM, but being selfish, self-centered, entitled and grandiose doesn't necessarily mean someone is a narcissist. It may just mean that he/she is being selfish, self-centered, entitled or grandiose!  It is not on you to diagnose your partner, your parent or your friends. This too is a big statement to make. You are diagnosing someone with a lifelong personality disorder, and to use this with abandon is again, grandiose and not right unless there is a real diagnosis made by a professional.

There was a movie made and to age myself, I think it was Julie Andrews in "The Princess Diaries." She said, "Words matter." They do indeed.

When my husband and I first got married, I told him that if he ever cheated on me I would "take him to the cleaners" and be done. No matter that we were both grad students with no money--I meant it!

As fate would have it, fast forward and here we are 36 years in and I have a completely different mindset. No, it is not because one of us cheated; it's because I have sat with countless couples who have worked through their infidelity and seen it to the other side. They report being stronger and more intimate than previously experienced. To be fair, not everyone can recover from this. There is no judgment here. It takes a long time to recover, and years and years of building trust and seeing it through. Not everyone can or wants to do that. What the person who was cheated on commonly reports is that he/she feels like someone dropped a nuclear bomb on their lap and the world changed in an instant. Further, the single biggest hurt for most people is how that person could "look (me) in the face and just lie to me!" It's a lot to take in and process, let alone rebuild.

Let me say something before we get to the "what to do" part. Number one, I never let anyone say they would never cheat. As in never. Because the truth is we all can. The privilege  of working with couples is that I get a window into their lives and I hear story after story and at some point, I find myself thinking, "Oh I get it. I can see how that happened." You are in a dry spell relationally, and suddenly a coworker or neighbor laughs at your jokes and says, "You are so funny! I bet your husband/wife thinks you are hilarious." Or, "You are so pretty/handsome/smart/interesting (insert adjective here that makes your heart sing)." And inside, you think, "Man, I haven't heard that it months." Your heart beats a little faster, you feel a little spring in your step and you go home to the same person who hasn't noticed you in ages. Over the course of days, weeks or months that person who does see you becomes more interesting to you, and then you notice that you are making time to accidentally run into him or her. Don't even talk about the hormonal rush of new love or lust or a crush. It is powerful.

Then one day, the truth comes out somehow and here comes the bomb. What to do?

Number one: Don't call an attorney right away.
You may feel ready to end it all, but you are in crisis and it's not wise to act  on it. Take a beat. The only time I would recommend an attorney right away is if your partner says he/she has no intention of ending it. Call an attorney, but do collaborative divorce (see previous blog on that).
 Or, call a therapist who is seasoned and experienced in helping couples navigate affairs. 

Number two: Let a therapist guide you into what to do and how to proceed.
I cannot tell you how many couples I have seen over the years who swept it under the rug only to have it bite them in the proverbial hind quarters years down the road. It happens because one person cannot get past it and/or another infidelity is discovered. So, call a therapist who is seasoned and experienced in helping couples navigate affairs.

Number three:  Do NOT tell your children.
Ever. It is a burden they cannot work through and they will resent you for it later in life or that day moving forward. It is difficult enough when you organically realize your parents are flawed. Don't rush them to the process. Talk to your therapist or a very trusted friend. Protect them from something they can do nothing about. And yes, this includes adult children. Therefore, call a therapist who is seasoned and experienced in helping couples navigate affairs. 

Number four:  Be honest with yourself.
Forgiveness is part of the equation. If you cannot or will not, let that person go. Again, take the time to see if it's possible. And, call a therapist who is seasoned and experienced in helping couples navigate affairs.

Number five: If you are the person who cheated, have the therapist help you navigate a disclosure.
I always tell the person who stepped out that they are not allowed to make the other person feel crazy. If they had a gut feeling you really didn't go to Issaquah for business and asked you about it but you lie and say you were when you really were in Spokane, then you make them feel nuts.  Definitely call a therapist who is seasoned and experienced in helping couples navigate affairs.  

Number six:  To the person who was cheated on: you think you want to know every detail, but you really don't. 
You don't need images and faces in your head and in your bedroom. You need to know the times and places but not the sexual details. I don't have a single client in twenty years of doing this who said they were glad they asked. Not one. They all were markedly traumatized by images they didn't know they invited. Call a therapist who is seasoned and experienced in helping couples navigate affairs.

Finally: Don't retaliate by cheating, and don't be abusive because you are so angry.
Retaliatory infidelity clouds healing and offers no leg to stand on when you are hurting and wanting reassurance. It so muddies the waters. And, while you can put your partner in the dog-house metaphorically speaking, doing damage through verbal abuse doesn't make the offending partner draw closer to  you to help you heal. It is a definite repellant, fair or not. Instead, call a therapist who is seasoned and experienced in helping couples navigate affairs.

An affair can be something that can be worked through and a couple can come out the other side stronger and more connected. But, can I be more clear? ​Call a therapist who is seasoned and experienced in helping couples navigate affairs.

I have noticed over the years that there seems to be a theme that courses through me as I sit and listen to couples. What I mean is, I find myself sharing the same thing over and over throughout a few months and then it takes shape to be a theme throughout the year. For example, one year the theme was "pay attention" and another was "be curious." It's not like I don't say those still, I do, but it was like every couple needed to hear that one phrase during our work together. Often multiple times. So I began to pay attention to what was happening and what I was seeing consistently with my couples and I started internally calling it the theme of the year. It wasn't like I was inserting it into our sessions; more like it was inserting itself into our sessions. Maybe that sounds mystical—believe me, therapy sometimes seems that way—and I cannot emphasize enough that therapy and the work that gets done can really be mysterious or spiritual in some way. {Sidebar note: I cannot tell you how often the opening sentences of a session end up circling back to the end of the session, even if that initial sentence or issue was not the focus of the session at all!} Does any of this make sense?!

So back to my point. It may only be January 31st, but the theme I see taking shape is "listen." Listen. The truth is we don't. I don't. We all talk over each other. Turn on any news channel of any political side and within minutes you will hear raised voices, interruptions and talking over each other. Each person wants to have their moment to prove their point or show how the other person is wrong or misguided. We ALL do this on some level. We begin to listen but then start formulating our defense or point of view. We are hardwired to be understood, less so to understand. 

What happens if we stop, breathe, put ourselves aside and just listen?  It's hard to do, isn't it? But what if we did? This is when the magic happens! We may not agree with all of what that person said, or even any of what that person said, but we will form a connection with the other because they feel seen and heard. You (hopefully) will see a softening, or a leaning into the relationship because they feel in their soul, "At last! You get me!" 

I often tell (confess to?) my clients that I am a much better listener as a therapist than I am as a friend or wife. Why? Because I am eager to be understood, or to show I understand by relating to that other persons' story by telling a story of my own. With my husband, when I find myself in my less relational stance, I want to be understood more than I want to understand. When I am in my functional adult, relational stance, I lean in, listen and clarify to make sure I understand what he is saying to me, even if it's difficult to hear.

Here are a few questions for you to ponder: Am I likely to get more of what I want if I listen, really listen, to my partner before I speak? Has it ever backfired when I listen, and check in to see if I understood correctly? How is it working for me to jump in and defend myself before I hear what is being said to me? How often do I get it wrong when I do so?  

So, listen up! You may be surprised by the results!

I am someone who loves the holiday and Christmas season this year. ​ There have been years when Christmas was difficult. Thirty years ago, our youngest daughter was in the hospital for a week with RSV, and then on Christmas day she was readmitted with an eye infection. It was hard to be merry about anything. This year, I know someone whose grandson underwent brain surgery for what looks like cancer. This, unfortunately, is not their first round. The boy's father died from brain cancer last year. I am certain that there will be little to  no "merry and bright" at their family gatherings this year.

There are high expectations to be joyful during the holiday season. The colors are happy, the songs are hopeful and happy, presents around the tree or at the table bring hope for fun, good things. We are having a cold but relatively sunny season in Washington, and you can see people smiling more (it's a good thing since there is a real thing called "the Seattle freeze" and no, it's not about the weather). Yet underneath all of this merriment, there are people who are lonely, sick, undergoing trauma. Relationships are breaking up and parents are being put in memory care. This list is inexhaustible. Knowing this, how do we who are in a season of joy and relative ease, keep that in mind without feeling blah or worse, guilty? Knowing this, how do we who are in a season of sadness or grief, live with the joy around us without feeling bitter or resentful?

Here are a few thoughts:

Enjoy this good season.
Life ebbs and flows, and we all face hardship at one point or another. Guilt implies wrong doing, and so if you are enjoying this season, there is no reason to feel guilty. Be joyful and remember that there are people who are struggling. If you know them, think about a way to help out or serve. If you have extra resources, give to a charity that you believe in. If you are surrounded by people you love, say it, show it, and be grateful! Reach out to repair broken relationships if that's a healthy and safe thing to do. Laugh, take in the joy around you and just be!

If this is a difficult season, show yourself grace.
The sunny skies can feel offensive under the weight you carry. Put good boundaries around you. If people are feeding you pablum (e.g "Everything will get better!" "Everything happens for a reason!" "Just pray!"), respectfully distance yourself if this isn't helpful, or respectfully say, "You may be right, but this isn't helpful right now." When you are feeling particularly salty, remind yourself that a healthy distance from others might be in order. Remember that there have been better times in the past and that you will figure out a way to find happiness or joy in the future. Remind yourself that even in dark times, or if you are suffering, it's ok to have a periodic good day, or to even laugh. And, also remind yourself that there really are seasons of grief and despair. Honor the tears.

Wherever you find yourselves this season, take care, friends. May 2025 be a better year for all of us.

Tomorrow is the presidential election. We will have a new president in 2025 who some will hate and others will love. (We live in a polarizing time, and so to that end, I am using polarizing language.) The United States will either flourish and shine or die a horrible death and become unrecognizable. Celebrations will abound, or riots will spout up like popcorn in an air fryer.  This is what the news is telling us, depending on which aisle you tend to lean. So on Wednesday morning, or three weeks from  now when it's decided, your fate will be laid out for you. Except it won't. Because elections are about politics, and while they have consequences for sure, they do not determine how you decide to move forward. It was only four short years ago that the pandemic changed the world, our lives and our health, and sometimes, unfortunately, our friendships and family relationships. And what happened? We got through it and moved on and life became more normal. It's just what happens and what history has shown us over and over again.

I remember telling an anxious client during the pandemic that the news will never tell us that Mrs. Magill baked a pie for Mr. and Mrs. Jones after the loss of their beloved pet Peanut. Why? Because news has to sell. And that story, even though it may really have a lasting relational outcome just isn't interesting enough. Don Henley wrote a great song in 1982 called "Dirty Laundry". Google it. The lyrics are timely and true. Here is a snippet:

"We got a bubble headed bleach blonde, comes on at five,
She can tell you 'bout the plane crash with a gleam in her eye.
It's interesting when people die, Give us dirty laundry."

We have to remember that all of the media wants to grab our attention, and we all tend to gravitate towards the negative. There are actual studies that show that our brains seek out the negative and try to focus on what is wrong. And so we lose focus on what is good and noble and kind. And polarizing language and behavior is none of that. The news rarely brings us any of that.

I am not trying to make light of people's real anxiety about the election. I have some myself. What I do want us to remember is that we have a choice in how we behave and think and move forward when all is said and done. I bet I'm not alone in saying I lost a friend because of politics, and I find that tragic because politics doesn't define us (or shouldn't). You are not defined by your politics. You are designed to be a relational person, loving deeply and being loved. And you get to choose how you live and love others after the election, regardless of outcome. And you get to choose how you will move on after November 5th, 2024.

I feel pretty confident that in a year's time (and more accurately, a week's or month's time) we will be back to normal. We will tolerate, like or dislike the new president, because that is what we tend to do. And life will go on, and we will find our equilibrium, and we will find that politics truly falls back to the backdrop of our daily lives. I know that some of you are really scared. I do and I feel that pain with you. And, as someone who has seen a lot of life (and has the dyed gray hairs to prove it), history repeats itself. Every generation has a Trump/Harris moment, and lived to tell the tale. Don't forget, the news serves us daily "dirty laundry." Maybe turn it off for a while. Go outside and listen to stories about the real people in your neighborhood and communities and be inspired.

I have never written anything so personal, but today seems like a good day to start. Twenty-three years ago today, my mother died. She had moved to California, where we lived at the time, to graciously let me take care of her in her last days. My sister had taken such good care of her for a few years prior, and I wanted to not only give her a reprieve (she too had a young family), but I wanted my mother to spend the last months with me. I had no idea that she would be gone within seven weeks of arriving.

My mother moved in with us on Saturday, September 8, 2001. She was hospitalized the next day, and two days later, the planes crashed in NYC, DC and Pennsylvania. The phone rang early in the morning and I remember thinking that she would still wake us up, even living in the same time zone. We had no idea the news she shared would be world-changing. From her lonely hospital room, she saw the news first.

She rallied for a few weeks, but I could see her fading and she could, too. We had many long talks and one day she told me she wanted to go on hospice, She just couldn't fight any more. Her doctor tried to talk her out of it, and she gently asked, "Is there anything you can give me that will change the outcome, or make things better?" He said no. She said, "OK then. Let's do it." I think that was a Monday or Tuesday. My sister and brother flew in that  Friday after a frantic call from me after a frightening night with my mom the night before. She died that Sunday.

I wish I could say that I was patient all the time with her, that I was always loving, kind and generous. I was not. There were times when taking care of her was hard while I took care of my own family. There were times when I wanted a break and felt resentful when I didn't get one. There were also times when I saw her lovingly take care of my small-ish children, making them Brazilian treats and sneaking them candy. There were times when we had good laughs and shared deep thoughts with each other. We sat at our kitchen table and planned her funeral, but we never really talked about dying like I had so openly with my father. She was all business about the funeral, and then that was that.

A couple of months after she died, I called my sister, doubled up with emotion and sadness and told her, "I am staring down an abyss and if I don't pull myself up, I'm going under." I was bereft. And in that phone call, I made the decision to stop grieving.  I decided that I needed to put it away and raise my children, and that I would deal with it when they were a little older and I could take the time to do so.

We moved to Texas and at some point, I decided to plunge into therapy and grieve my mother. I dealt with my guilt and trusted that she knew I loved her. Maria Cecilia was an excellent, loving, generous mother who adored her three children until she breathed her last breath.  My sister and I started a tradition the year after she died that we would commemorate her death with good food and good wine, because she was the original "foodie" before that was a thing. And we never missed a date except for once, and now we are this year because I am in the PNW. At some point we brought my brother into the mix and we toasted our mom and spent time together. Nothing made her happier than knowing we were close.

So, what did I learn about grief? You have to go through it. You can delay it, you can do it over periods of time, but you cannot avoid it. I often tell people I grieved my father well, but I didn't with my mother. I just couldn't deal with the depth of it at the time. Make no mistake, though, ​I had to go through it. And when I did, I did it well. I learned that guilt is part of it. We all regret something. And I learned that we have to revisit that sometimes and remember that our imperfect selves need some grace. I learned that grief is so much easier in a  good relationship. I have sat with so many clients who have struggled with abusive parents and they grieve not so much their death but what they never had. I learned that the second year is harder than the first in some ways. Everyone else thinks you should move on. The numbness is over, and you really get that that person is never coming back. I learned that tears are healing, that laughing at stories with siblings is so helpful, and that grief is a gift. I learned that I was deeply loved, and I loved her deeply, too.  Those tears remind me of that gift. Grief can be a reflection of that love.

There are times when I find myself asking if therapy works. Do my clients really benefit from working with me? Why is it that some people leave changed and others either take eons to make any progress, or sadder still, leave abruptly or feel hopeless? Is it about them? Is it about me?  And, on top of all of this, I have read that 30% of people seeking therapy feel better, 30% feel worse (yikes!) and 30% feel like nothing changed. I am not sure about the other 10% but maybe that's for another time.

When I think about the times I have gone to my own therapy, I found each time to be very helpful. Even when I disagreed with my therapist, I found myself even years later pondering what was said and why I reacted negatively to that exchange. Was therapy hard? Absolutely. I've gone for grief therapy (more than once) and marital therapy. There were times when I thought I'd rather cancel and call it a day, but I went anyway and it was good that I did. If I didn't change as a person, I changed my perspective and sometimes, my behavior.

What do I notice from my clients? I have noticed that some people run with it! They come to therapy prepared (I never did that!), notebook in hand, mind open, ready to move and move on. Some people come in tentatively; unsure what will happen, if they want to change at all, unsure about me, unsure about the process. Some people come in because they were forced to--either by a partner or a parent or some loved one who said they had to or else. I get all of that. Therapy is hard and if I am honest, highly intrusive.

What are the results? I think intuitively we all can come to the same conclusion. The ones that come in expectedly, wanting to move and ready to change, do! The ones who come in tentatively do one of two things; they either slowly open up to change, and do!-- or they slowly shut down and put up a wall--not willing or unable (for various reasons) to put in the effort and make the change. Do I think sometimes the issue is with me? Yes. In therapy world we call that "a goodness of fit." We have to have a good rapport to build a connection because, as I said, therapy is intrusive by nature and we have to feel safe. I have been fortunate to not have that happen often at all, but it can and it needs to be respected by both the therapist and client when it does.

So, what's the conclusion. Does therapy help? I think so. If it didn't then I'm a charlatan who takes people's money and snickers on their way out. But it helps only when this happens:
1. There is a good fit between client and therapist.
2. The client or clients are ready to work.
3. The client or clients are "sick of being sick" and are motivated to work hard.
4. The clients are clearly informed that 50 minutes a week (or 100 minutes if I see a couple) will not change anything unless they put in the work  between sessions. 
 5. The clients use the tools provided and know that it's not a one-time fix but a minute-to-minute, sometimes day-to- day practice.

Are you ready to make the change?

It seems as though more and more I have clients talking about the problems they have with either their own parents or the parents of their partners.  These are not conversations that are easy to have. It's one thing to be talking smack about your own parents, but it's another when your partner is going off on yours. I could use this space to talk about how to handle it, and I may at a later post. (If you look at the side of this page and see "Archives", you would understandably think that it may be 2 years from now when you read it. Like you, I am a work in progress!) I want to use this post to talk to you--the parents of adult children.

It is difficult to have an adult child. It's an oxymoron. The conflict is obvious. He or she IS an adult. And, he or she is also your child. The trick is to focus on them being adults and not children. Easier said than done, right? But the truth is, they are grown and raised and ​living a life that is theirs and theirs alone. They have chosen a partner and may or may not have children, who are also theirs to raise. We had our chance and now it's theirs to do the raising! So sit back and enjoy the ride. The end. Goodbye.  Ok, not really. I'd like to offer a few things to consider as you navigate this new relationship. Keep in mind that they are day to day practices. You don't arrive and then it's all good. Things come up and you will have to contain yourself and remember that these are adults living their own lives.  Here are a few pointers.

1. You didn't like it when your parents told you how to parent, There is no rule book and we all learn as we go. Unless the grandchildren are in danger (literally, not you being nervous about the possibility of it), be quiet and be a loving observer.

2.  Give advice only when asked. Period. 

3. Your adult child gets to set the rules. If you think it's stupid that their child eats McNuggets or is Vegan, that's fine. But you don't get to share that opinion. If they ask you to feed Joey X, then feed Joey X. If you step back and think about it, it is very disrespectful to ignore the parents and do what you want. I hear this one all the time and it amazes me. Basically you are saying, "Yeah. I couldn't care less what you think. I will do what I want because your rule is stupid."  

4. Your child chose the partner they chose. Being critical of that person, making off handed remarks and being downright disrespectful is a good way to alienate the relationship. Choose to be a friend and not a foe. If you have grave concerns about their partner*, do this anyway. It costs nothing to be kind and polite, If things go south, you may be (though not always) a safe place to land if you aren't critical. And if things don't go south, then you are setting an example of what a loving in-law can be. *I am not talking about abusive partners here.

5. HELP! There is nothing worse than a houseguest who takes and takes and offers nothing. Even if they don't take you up on your offer, it matters that you offered! Offer to babysit if they have children. Offer to make a meal when you are there. Clean up after yourself. This may seem obvious, but trust me, you would be surprised. I don't know about you but when I had two little ones, any help was such a gift! Assume your kids are exhausted. 

6. If there are no grandchildren, don't harp about when. Their reproductive choices are not your business. Don't ask. This is a great time to develop a friendship with your in-law. Get to know him or her and appreciate your adult child's choice. Be curious, ask questions, be interested!

So what is an "out-law?"  Do the exact opposite of 1-6, and you will learn quickly what it means. If Door A is being a healthy in-law, and Door B in the unhealthy out-law, choose Door A. Every. Time.

I have been allowing thoughts to simmer for a while now even as  I have spoken to most of my clients about what happened in Uvalde, Texas. You know the story--an 18 year old went into a classroom, locked the door and killed children and teachers. Like most Texans, if not all of America, I was shaken to the core. I felt hopeless and wrecked.  The next day I saw a comment saying, "F--k the Republicans." Very helpful. What can be done? What do we do? What is wrong with us?

Stay with me here--I'll put it all together.

I was walking my pups in my neighborhood and right by a sign saying "A Proud Parent of a (Blank) High School Senior" was a sign that said, "F--k Governor Abbott." Nice.

I was walking said pups this morning and a woman probably in her 60s whom I have passed and waved to numerous times over the years, says to me in a shaken up voice, "Avoid the big house on the next street! The f---ing a--hole yelled at me for shooing his charging dog at me! He told me to 'Keep walking and stop being mean.'" This woman doesn't know me other than being a dog-walker with cute pups. Yet she didn't hesitate one iota to use harsh language telling me a story. I get it, she was shaken up, but he's a f---ing a--hole? Really?

We can talk about guns, we can talk about policy, we can talk about mental illness (I hate the term--brain illness is more accurate), we can talk about all of this until the cows come home. But it will NOT stop until we become a more civil country and people. Our political leaders ON BOTH SIDES use coarse language and vitriol to demonize the other. Parents scream obscenities at each other and flip drivers off in front to their children. Children no longer think twice about dropping the f-bomb in front of a stranger (me) and continue on talking.( I get it--I'm older--but when I was a teenager if we swore in front of an adult we would turn red and apologize profusely and pray to God they didn't know our parents.) Why do they do this? Because their parents and adult friends talk this way. And if they don't, our national leaders do and it's ok because, hey, they're right and on the "right side of history!" Everyone is so angry. Harshness is no big deal.

I could go on and on but I won't. So where does this leave us?  We can decide RIGHT NOW to end the verbal vomit, the verbal violence and model civility and moderation. It starts with each individual and each one of us deciding to be moderate with our partners when we are angry. It starts with making decisions about how much (if any) violence we allow in our kids' video games so we aren't deadening the senses of seeing brains blown to pieces. It starts with taking a breath and yes, being angry but choosing to LOSE THE HARSHNESS. It starts with choosing to not join the mob and hating the political opposition and remembering that thoughtful debate and respectful disagreement used to be a thing and can be so once again. It starts with your own thoughts unspoken. When my thoughts are harsh, I try, not always successfully, to change what I thought and be more charitable to the person with whom I disagree. If you think about it, there is just no room for harshness.

I cannot change what happened in Uvalde, nor in any of the other mass shootings in our country. I wish things were different. But I am sure of one thing--kindness, a lack of harshness and a commitment to living a non-violent life, beginning with language and tone, allows me to be an agent of change in my house, in my community and in my interactions with others. And that gives me hope.