(My first post about receiving the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine can be found here.)

I have experienced two other significant side effects from the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine that most people aren't experiencing. However, as the saying goes, correlation is not causation, and I cannot prove that these side effects are from the vaccine. However, the results, especially when compared to what is happening with others in the world, are highly suspicious.

The first side effect requires a bit of a preface. In February 2020, I came down with viral bronchitis. I never get bronchitis; it’s just not one of the things I tend to be susceptible to. It was an odd case as well: I wasn’t coughing. I only had severe upper lobe pain on my right lung. No one else around me got sick. I went on herbs including goldenseal, and in two weeks, it had resolved.

Then, a few days later, the bronchitis came crashing back as a bacterial infection. It’s not unusual for a viral lung infection to become bacterial; this is one of the primary concerns with viral pneumonia following the flu. However, this time the lung pain was accompanied by coughing and fever any time I was not on herbs, antibiotics or anti-parasitics. The various herbs and drugs were helping control the infection but never eliminating it. Thus began an entire year of fighting a persistent and unending lung infection. I struggled to be minimally functional during this year because the infection was so draining on top of my already exhausting chronic infections.

My practitioners and I quickly became suspicious that it might be related to COVID-19, but in those early days, there was no testing available, and when it became available, it was only for those who had traveled or had been exposed to confirmed COVID-19 (which I had not). Initially government agencies weren't admitting that COVID-19 was in the US before February 2020, but reviews of blood donations and autopsy tissues have shown COVID-19 was here as early as December 2019.

Once antibody tests were available, I got one in early May 2020, but it was negative. Again, the accuracy of the antibody tests was not 100%, so the results were questionable.

The infection persisted for an entire year until February 2021. I took lots of herbs, lots of antibiotics, and lots of anti-parasitics. What was most suspicious about the drugs I was taking was that they were selected using applied kinesiology, not random guessing. The drugs that worked best for me? Levofloxacin, Augmentin, azithromycin, mebendezole, and ivermectin. Some of these are drugs that others with long haul COVID have found helpful as shown through the links above.

Because I have chronic fatigue syndrome, any of the other side effects of long haul COVID are already a part of my life. It makes it very difficult to differentiate between chronic issues and new acute ones at times. The only “new” problem was constant shortness of breath and right upper lobe lung pain.

Then I got the first COVID-19 Moderna vaccine, and within one week, the symptoms I had been battling for a year vanished completely. Nothing else changed to cause the disappearance for the pain. I no longer needed the lung herbs or drugs. And while correlation doesn’t equal causation, that result is mighty suspicious. All of my health practitioners are fairly convinced I was battling long haul COVID that cleared up with the vaccine. None of the other chronic infections in my body were impacted from the first injection, so it wasn’t just a result of my immune system being impacted from the vaccine. 

I'm not the only one who has experienced such a remission in lung symptoms after the vaccine. Others with known long-haul COVID have also found relief after the vaccine. 

The second vaccine injection side effect is one that the general population will not experience because most people don't have late-disseminated Lyme Disease as I do. In a very oversimplified explanation, the COVID-19 vaccine, like all vaccines, triggers the immune system to ramp up and respond to the vaccine. This is how it builds immunity to that particular invader. However, the immune system doesn’t necessarily differentiate between other infections and the vaccine invasion.

With the second COVID vaccine, about two weeks after the vaccine, a week after other symptoms had resolved, I began experiencing Lyme die off in massive amounts. This usually results when I have exercised too hard or have started taking an antibiotic or herb that attacks the Lyme. In this case, none of the above was true. My immune system seemingly switched from processing the vaccine to working on another chronic infection in my body.

For an entire month, I was experiencing continuous Lyme die off. Again, this is not typical. Usually Lyme die off periods only last for a week with this intensity for me. We had removed all supplements from my regime that might be provoking the die off, and yet it continued. My immune system was very ramped up and continued to fight hard against the chronic Lyme infection. Pain in particular regions of my body was the most prevalent symptom for me, but I was also dealing with overall inflammation, drowsiness, brain fog, and exhaustion. 

This Lyme die off was a good thing in the long run. It means there will be less Lyme in my body. In the short term, it meant I was in major chronic pain. I was taking herbs and drugs to manage the pain, but otherwise there was nothing else to do but let my body fight. I’m grateful that my body is fighting so hard, though there are times when I would like a lot less pain.

I’m now six weeks post-second vaccine and seem mostly back to my typical self. As I noted, there’s no way to prove causation, but it seems unlikely that anything else triggered this change in my immune system. 

​©2021 ​Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Vaccines are a topic I have generally avoided on my blog. This is because I believe there are shades of gray when it comes to vaccines, but most people see the issue as black or white. For some with compromised immune systems and severe allergic reactions, vaccines can be more deadly than the diseases they fight. However, those issues are rarely brought up in public “discussions” which are usually more like one-sided diatribes. 

For me personally, I do not do well with vaccines. I have to consider whether the vaccine side effects are worth risking compared to the prevention the vaccine will give. My immune system reacted terribly with Gardasil and thus, I only received the first vaccine; there was no way I could consider the subsequent two boosters.

​With COVID-19, though, there was no question for me that the risk of disease was way higher than the risk of vaccine reactions because I am diabetic, obese, immune compromised, and asthmatic. I knew intuitively that I wanted a Moderna or Pfizer, and as someone in group 1B in Texas, Moderna was the only widely available vaccine at the time I received my first shot in February. (If I could pick at this point, I would choose Pfizer based on the lesser reactions of those around me who got it compared to the reactions of those around me who got Moderna. My adult daughter who received Moderna feels the same way.) I was told intuitively to expect to be down for two days with the first shot and a week with the second, and that ended up being true for me.

I documented what I went through with each shot so I could let others see what someone who does not do well with vaccines went through. It was miserable, especially the second shot, but it still was better than a tube down my throat in the ICU. I will get a booster when they are available to help against variants in the future. The reactions below are also far better than what I've gone through in the past, and I would love if mRNA technology is used to revamp other vaccines so I could get boosters for some of those.

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​First Vaccine:

I can’t tell you how many times clients have said to me, “This may be TMI [too much information], but…” and then they share something they feel is mortifying or shameful or just very intimate about their bodies. Almost none of the time is it TMI.

Quite often the details that clients are worried about discussing involve bodily functions. Please know there is no way to give me TMI about your body. To start with, I’ve shared my home with dogs. Any pet lover can regale you with gross stories of the things their pets have eaten, vomited, pooped or disemboweled. It just goes with the territory of loving pets. They are furry, cute, wonderful, and sometimes downright disgusting.

Furthermore, I am a mother. Many parents who have had young children can tell you of a point where they were discussing diaper contents with peers and wondering, “Really? This is what my life is now?” Being a parent has infinite rewards, but it can get pretty darn challenging some days, too. Asides from all the fun with my kids as they grew up, I’ve gone through genital surgeries with two male partners. I’ve had a fully functional female body all my life. You aren’t going to gross me out by discussing what your body has decided to do in a fit of creativity or dysfunction (depending on how you want to frame it). Our society may teach us that talking about our bodies is improper, but that’s not true when you’re working with me. We need to talk about what your body is doing so we can heal it!

Outside of the realm of the human body, I have clients who are anywhere and everywhere on the gender and sexual spectrums. I have clients who are polyamorous. I have clients who are very kinky. I have clients who are having extra-marital affairs. I have clients who use illicit drugs. I have clients who are trying to break addictions and others who have succeeded. All of these clients are special to me, and none of what they tell me about their identities or their life choices makes me think less of them.

Unfortunately, I also have clients who have suffered a great deal of trauma. At least 75% of my clients have been sexually abused at some point in their lives. Many have been physically and emotionally abused. Others also have experienced medical trauma. I definitely fall into all of those categories myself. While the victim feels a great deal shame around the abuse they endured, I don’t view my clients with pity or shame. I see them as humans who need to be accepted, heard, loved, and helped to heal. Whatever they need to share is part of the healing process, and it's not TMI.

I recently told a client at the end of a session, “I don’t think I’ve ever said the word ‘vagina’ so much in one session.” It wasn’t a problem at all for me to be talking about her vagina as we worked on healing the issues at hand. I just had said the word far more than I have before in such short a period of time. And that’s ok! Sometimes we just have to step back and laugh at the absurdity of things when we’re working on healing deep and painful issues.

​Know that it is really hard to present me with TMI, and no matter what you share with me, I won’t judge you for it. Instead, I’ll help you come to terms with that “TMI” and heal it as best I can.

©2021 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Almost all of us will label 2020 as a year that really sucked when we look back at our lives. COVID-19 made a real mess of things. On top of that, there were economic and political issues that greatly impacted many. On a personal level, quite a few of us faced deep challenges we hadn’t expected to face last year.
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In one of my personal challenges, I briefly encountered a man who did something to me that can be considered a felony depending on the state one lives in. Fortunately for me, the situation was a best-case scenario of the possible horrible outcomes that could have resulted. Given the other traumas I have faced, this one was a small one. However, it still had an impact on me that caused a wound which I had to work on healing. 

​​Many months after this man traumatized me and with no further contact between us, he had the unabashed gall to send me a Christmas card which arrived on January 2, 2021 thanks to the post office delays over the holiday season. I was speechless when I opened it. It was a pretty card, and the message he wrote inside was generic but genuine. Still, him sending me a card was totally inappropriate given what had occurred. When I later shared the arrival of the Christmas card with others who knew the whole story, their universal response was, “He sent you what?!?”

I brought the card in and threw it on my family room coffee table next to the couch where I often sit. After a few hours, I had to throw the card on the back porch. The negative energy coming off of it was awful, and I couldn’t stand to be around it. When I told my mentor and my rolfer this, both of them said what I already knew and had done: “Burn it!”
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Someone on my Buy Nothing list had offered up some coffee cans which I claimed with the intent of burning the card. After photographing the card for this post, I tore it into pieces, said a prayer that its symbolic destruction would represent the departure of all the “bad” things that had happened in 2020 and would usher in a purified new year of 2021. And then I lit it on fire. (Please note the garden hose was immediately adjacent to the coffee can and I was burning it on a concrete patio many feet away from anything flammable.) As I watched it burn, I shifted my position with the wind to stay upwind of the smoke, continuing to pray for the healing of the damage that man caused me. A great deal of peace came over me during this ritual as I let go of some of the pain and moved toward the future.

After the fire burned itself out, I wet down the ashes and then threw the remainder in the trash which is what felt appropriate in this situation; sometimes scattering or burying the ashes in the better resolution. With the departure of those ashes, I said goodbye to 2020 with the hopes that 2021 will bring abundant blessings not just for me and my family, but for all.

©2021 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

video of the card on fire in the coffee can

As I’ve mentioned before, the best healers are those who have been wounded and who have worked to heal their past. These healers continue to work on healing on deeper levels throughout their lives as they grow as individuals. If you find a healer who claims to be perfect and to have resolved all their issues, run in the opposite direction. They are deluded. We’re all human, and we’re all in need of healing our entire lives. Almost none of us reach enlightenment on this plane of existence. 

I am continuing my own healing because I practice what I preach to my clients. Lately, I have been working on some very core issues in my life. Like many people, I had a miserable childhood which included a lot of abuse (physical, emotional and sexual) and neglect. I was very different than many of my peers as a child, and as a result, I endured bullying, especially in the late grade school years. When I look back on my childhood, it’s not with fondness. It’s with painful memories and gratitude that I somehow managed to survive. 

Recently, a new issue surfaced during therapy. I’ve got a list of core issues which I have been working on healing in different ways over the years. However, as we approached one of my core issues, a new underlying issue suddenly popped its malicious head out of the woodwork for me to heal. Both my therapist and I were taken back by its appearance, yet it made sense to us in light of my other issues. 

When I came home from that therapy session, I created a flower essence blend for myself just as I do for my clients by using my intuitive guidance and my stock of 600+ flower essences. I then labeled the blend, “I Deserve to Exist.” I’ve learned that The Universe doesn’t observe subtlety when it comes to healing. We need to clearly state exactly what it is we’re working on and what we want to achieve.

​I had known previously that I was an unplanned and undesired pregnancy. Even though I was born in the post-Roe v. Wade era, my somewhat Catholic mother chose to continue the pregnancy. However, on top of not wanting a child, she also did not want a girl. The firstborn child was supposed to be a male, one who could carry on the family name. I grew up knowing that I was not wanted nor was I the right sex. On a subconscious level, I quickly learned that others fundamentally did not want me to exist.

Throughout my childhood, many people tried to make me disappear. They put masks on me, trying to transform me into the kind of person they felt I should be. In order to survive as a child, I conformed as best I could to their demands. At the time, I assumed their judgments meant I was imperfect or wrong. I tried to be perfect. As a teen, I started realizing I wasn’t being true to myself. As an adult, I've had to shed all of those prior expectations in order to find my true self. In retrospect, I have learned that others were not allowing me to be me because of their own emotional issues, not my imperfections.

Lately as I have been clearing out emotional baggage, I’ve simultaneously been clearing out physical baggage, too. I’ve been purging many of my childhood items that I still had packed away in boxes by giving them away on my local Buy Nothing Project list. I’ve experienced great joy in giving these items to others who can enjoy them. Some are getting to reclaim items identical to those which brought them happiness in their childhoods. Others are passing them on to children who can happily play with the toys rather than the toys sitting unused in boxes. 

This morning I had a healing session with one of my practitioners who uses NET. Unprompted by me, she used the term “mask” with me, and I began to laugh. I told her that my afternoon plans included smashing a mask I had created as a child; I had set the mask in my garage before I left home for the appointment. My healer got goosebumps as we talked about it.
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So when I got home, I smashed that mask. I was utterly surprised how easy it was to break the ceramic with a hammer; it was like using a knife on warm butter. Symbolically, that’s probably true of many of our masks. While they appear to be sturdy and strong, hiding us from the world, the reality is that once we choose to remove them and be ourselves, they crumble quickly. ​

​The only piece of the mask that refused to smash was the nose. When I am doing psychic readings for clients, I see noses symbolically to represent wisdom. To me, that was a reminder to keep the wisdom of my childhood. I learned a lot through the pain I endured, plus I do have some happy memories. Those are the things that I should retain. The rest can be broken and discarded.

Wow.

Just wow.

By the time I was 50% of the way through The Nowhere Girls by Amy Reed, I was in complete awe of this amazing book. While billed as a young adult book that focuses on a group of high school girls, there is still much in the book for adults as we all are facing a society that is finally recognizing how large of a problem sexual harassment, sexual abuse, and rape are in our culture. 

The Nowhere Girls starts with the beginning of the school year as Grace, a liberal minister's daughter who is new to town becomes friends with Rosina, a Hispanic lesbian outsider at the high school, and Erin who has Asperger's disease and a hidden history others at the school know nothing about. Grace has moved into the home of Lucy, a girl who was raped by three boys from the high school last year. Unfortunately, Lucy was not believed by the community and was shunned by her peers. Her family left town in disgrace.

Now Grace wants to find justice for Lucy. As she learns about the rape, Grace convinces Rosina and Erin to help her form "the Nowhere Girls," a group devoted to bringing about change around the rape culture in their small town. While there are great doubts among the girls as to whether the group will do any good, slowly but surely its numbers and its effectiveness grow. Soon the establishment of the town is fighting back, forcing the principal to suspend any members involved in the Nowhere Girls for daring to accuse the boys of the town of inappropriate behavior.

Midway through the book, a group of 31 girls clandestinely meet and have an incredible discussion. Among the topics they broach are virginity, sexuality, pleasure, and what they owe boys. The girls begin to realize that they don't owe boys or men anything in terms of sex. They have a right to make choices about their own bodies. They realize they need to start supporting each other regardless of whether they are virgins or sexually active. They speak out against the slut shaming that happens in our culture wherein boys can be sexually promiscuous but girls are not allowed to be. As I read this discussion, I began wishing that The Nowhere Girls was mandatory reading for all high schoolers, though I can see the religious right screaming in terror at such radical ideas being promoted to impressionable youth.
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Mixed in with the primary themes of rape and sexual activity are also discussions of what it means to be accepting of others. Current topics that are part of the national discourse such as community activism, immigration issues, racial issues and transgender acceptance are all part of the book. The Nowhere Girls was published in October 2017 just as the #MeToo movement was beginning to emerge, but the book is very much in line with all that has happened since.

Without spoiling the ending, I will say that I was left choked up in very good tears at the end of the book. Amy Reed powerfully engages readers' emotions, especially those of us who have dealt with the same fears, struggles and obstacles that her heroines face. For young people facing these same issues as they come of age, The Nowhere Girls can give hope that things are changing in our world for the better.

​©2018 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., GreenHeartGuidance.com

(Content Warning: Childhood sexual abuse mentioned in passing)

For quite a while, I have recommended the City of Austin Sexually Transmitted Diseases Clinic to people who were looking for affordable STI (sexually transmitted infections) testing whether because they had high co-pays or no insurance. However, I had never been there myself. I had not been tested since my last sex partner and needed to do so before my next relationship, so I recently took myself there to experience their services.

The first challenge is getting an appointment. They can only book for the same day or next day, and they fill up quickly. If you want an appointment, you must call at 8 in the morning. I called when my cell phone said 8:00 a.m. one morning, and by the time they got to me, they were fully booked for that day and only had three appointment times for the next day. Luckily one of the times I worked for me or I would have had to keep calling every morning until I got one that worked. You can also show up at 8 a.m. for a walk-in appointment, but you are taking your chances on how long you’ll be there and if there will be availability.

I arrived 10 minutes before my appointment as requested. I was processed quickly at the intake desk and then buzzed through a locked door to pay my $20 fee (credit cards accepted). I then walked down a very long hall to another waiting room. The Ellen Show was playing silently on the TV with closed captions displaying the dialog. About eight other people of all sexes and ethnicities were in the waiting room. Most were in their 20s to 40s.

Playing on my phone, I waited for a few minutes, and then a phlebotomist called me back to get my blood drawn for HIV and syphilis testing. As I sat down in the chair, I let her know that I am allergic to latex to make sure she didn’t use anything dangerous on me though most blood labs only use nitrile supplies now. However, she panicked as she told me, “I only have latex band-aids.” I reassured her that I don’t need a band-aid (not even bringing up my reactions to adhesives) because I stop bleeding quickly after a draw.

The phlebotomist proceeded to do her job and said to me, “That sucks to be allergic to latex. Non-latex condoms are more expensive.” I told her that it wasn’t too bad, and that AIDS Services of Austin will send you 50 free condoms per quarter (including non-latex) if you live in one of five local counties.  Both she and the other phlebotomist in the room stopped what they were doing and stared at me. “Did you not know this?” I asked. Both of them said no. I began wondering why was I doing the safer sex resources education at the STI testing clinic. However, my phlebotomist, having noted that they had free non-latex condoms they kept hidden (with the latex ones on the counter for anyone to grab), proceeded to give me a handful of free samples to take with me.

I returned to the lobby and waited for the nurse practitioner to call me back to her room. She asked for basic medical information since I was new to the clinic, and then asked what my concerns were. When I told her that I had none and that I was doing routine testing before having a new partner, her facial reaction told me that she barely comprehended this concept. Clearly many people she saw were worried about an STI and were being tested for that reason. She continued by asking me if I had ever had an STI, and I said no. She looked completely shocked and said, “Not even syphilis?” When I told her no again, her expression was total disbelief, as if it is impossible to get to the ripe old age of 44 without experiencing syphilis. To reassure her I wasn’t making up information, I told her I had been in a 22 year monogamous relationship, and that seemed to lessen her disbelief.

The nurse practitioner then asked when I had last had sex. As I told her that information, I jokingly mentioned, “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to get lucky.” She proceeded to comment, “A lot of women would consider themselves lucky not to have had sex with a man in that long.” Again, I was shocked. Flabbergasted, actually. Here I was, in an STI testing clinic, and I was experiencing very negative attitudes around sex.

I live a very sex positive life. I believe that sex is a natural and normal part of adult life. As long as people are able to give consent and practice safer sex, I consider sex a healthy thing. However, our society does not. We live in a society that promotes abstinence only sex education. Many mainstream religions condemn sex before marriage. We shun people who have affairs even though huge numbers of people have them. Parts of society still don’t believe homosexuality is natural or that there are more than two genders. As a result, many people don’t get STI testing done as often as they should because of the shame they carry around sex. Since I am surrounded by friends who don’t hold these attitudes, I sometimes forget they even exist. However, I was especially shocked to encounter a “lie back and think of England” attitude from a nurse practitioner who works in a STI related health clinic!

As the nurse practitioner continued talking to me, she asked where my new/future partner was. I told her that he had gotten testing done through his general practitioner the previous day. The look she gave me was clearly one of, “And you believed that, honey?” She then continued to grill me about why he hadn’t come with me. I refrained from saying, “Because I’m a big girl who doesn’t need someone to hold my hand while I get my blood drawn and pee in a cup.” While there’s absolutely nothing wrong with bringing a support person if you are nervous about blood draws or STI testing, it’s also perfectly acceptable for a 44 year old woman to take herself to a clinic for the same. Still, the nurse practitioner was clearly judging my new partner as being unsupportive because he went to work rather than coming with me (even though I didn’t ask him to accompany me). All men were obviously very low on her list of people who could be trusted, and I found that very sad.

At one point, she asked if I had been molested as a child because it was part of the intake paperwork. I said that I had been, and she just looked sad. I informed her that it was very common, and the good thing about the #MeToo movement is that more people are talking about sexual abuse which is helping in prevention and healing. She seemed to agree it was probably a good thing that people were talking though she seemed a bit hesitant about it. Later in the appointment she asked if I had ever tried therapy about the molesting because she had heard it helps. I reassured her that I most definitely had seen a therapist and that I now do healing work helping others recovering from trauma. She seemed surprised but stated that there’s a lot of trauma out there, not just sexual, that needs healing.

After peeing in a cup (no help needed!), I returned to the nurse practitioner’s room where she told me my blood tests were negative. My urine test results for gonorrhea and chlamydia would be available online two days later through a patient portal. She gave me a piece of paperwork to hand to the front desk and sent me on my way. Fifty-five minutes after I arrived, I was on my way out the door, an amazingly good time for a public clinic or even a private doctor’s office.

I debated writing this blog post to share my experience, but after attending Bedpost Confessions this week and being reminded by one of the producers about how important it is that we talk about body functions and sexual health, I decided it would be good for me to put my experience out there. If it can help someone else feel more comfortable about what to expect when going to the local STI clinic, then I am happy to share what I went through. However, to anyone going there or anywhere for testing, I hope you remember that sex is a positive thing if practiced safely and consensually. Having it as often as you want with whomever you choose is a completely wonderful thing. Don’t let sex-negative attitudes impact your sex life!

©2018 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., GreenHeartGuidance.com

I received a free advance reader copy of Driven via Netgalley in return for an honest review.

When we think of heartbreak, most of us think of losing a romantic love. Yet the pain of losing a loved one to death is every bit as devastating – if not moreso—than the heartbreak of a lost romantic love. Both losses can launch us into a deep spiraling grief that consumes us, body, mind and soul. Melissa Stephenson vividly brings that raw emotional pain to her writing. The death of her brother Matthew is one of the primary storylines running through Driven: A White-Knuckled Ride to Heartbreak and Back. She describes the horrid experience all of us go through in the early days of a loss, waking from a sleep to remember that a loved one has died and our world is no longer what it was: “It’s a vicious cycle: the forgetting, the waking, and the fresh wave of grief and nausea that crash over me as I remember.” As her deep grief continues Stephenson describes the ensuing depression: “My life feels like roadkill, a mess beyond fixing, only my brain won’t stop thinking any more than I could talk my heart out of beating. I live because my body does, a black hole incarnate.”

These emotions are the brutal reality of what we experience when someone we love dies. Stephenson also isn’t afraid of exploring the thoughts that most of us don’t want to admit we have around death. She talks explicitly about wondering what Matthew’s life-ending wound looked like, a deeply personal thought that most would hide in fear that they would be judged “too morbid” or even worse. Yet all of us have these questions and thoughts about death even if we won’t admit that we’ve thought about them. As Stephenson reflects on her brother’s cremation, her vivid imagery shows clearly how the details surrounding his death invaded her mind:

​Recently one of the most prominent politicians of our nation announced that he had been “too busy” to buy his wife a birthday present but he got her a nice card instead. As I read this, I wanted to reach through my computer screen and throttle the man (although I often have that reaction to what he says anyway).

Let’s establish one thing: there are few people in this world who are truly “too busy” to do something for a spouse for their birthday. If someone works 100 hour weeks at three minimum wage jobs while trying to care for multiple children and a disabled parent, that person is legitimately too busy to do much beyond try to survive. Most of us, though, are not quite that pressed for time. Even if our finances are extremely stretched, there are creative ways to come up with free gifts for our spouses if we choose to put the effort into it.

In this situation, though, this particular politician is quite wealthy. While his actual wealth is debated, it’s at least in the millions. He also has multiple personal assistants who work for him. For him, it’s quite possible to hand one of those assistants a credit card, tell them to call Tiffany’s (or whatever the preferred jewelry store of his wife is) and ask them to send over a pair of earrings from this season’s line that cost under X dollars and are preferably in a certain stone. The husband can then inspect the jewelry before presenting it to his wife on her birthday. Or if this man wanted to get his wife something less commercial than jewelry, he could make an online donation to a charity which she supports in her honor. Really, he’s not too busy to make that request of his assistants (or possibly do it himself), and his funds and situation actually allow him more flexibility than most of us even if his time is limited.

When someone says, “I’m too busy” to do a particular activity, what they are actually saying is, “That’s not important to me and I won’t prioritize doing it.” For this man, getting his wife a birthday present was simply not a priority for him. He didn’t care about her birthday or doing something to make her happy. While most of the country suspects they are not a happily married couple, actions like this help to cement the fact that he is not making true efforts to show her she matters.

The next time someone hurts you by saying that they are “too busy” for you, stop and think about it. Are they really too busy? Or are you just not a priority for them? If it’s the latter, then it’s time to reevaluate your relationship with that person. If your romantic partner is constantly “too busy” to spend time with you or to do things for you that are important to you, consider seeing a couples therapist together (which they may very likely object to on the “too busy” grounds as well). If it’s a friend who is always too busy for you, then take some time to let go of your hopes of that friend being there for you in the ways you want and put your friend a little further down on your list of people to associate with. Spend your valuable time with those who aren’t “too busy” to enjoy being around you.

©2018 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., GreenHeartGuidance.com

Disclaimer: I know the author of this book from professional contacts.

I am one of the most musically un-hip people in Austin. For many reasons, I don’t take advantage of the live music scene here. While I enjoy music, I am terrible about remembering who sings what song. When I dated a very not-famous musician (because if you live in Austin, you most likely will date a musician at some point), I drove him nuts for being so musically ignorant.

Hence, when Kristin Casey mentioned to me she was writing a book about a famous rock star she dated, it didn’t really grab my attention. When she released the title of Rock Monster: My Life with Joe Walsh, I actually had to go Google to find out whom Joe Walsh is. As I read his bio, I was able to say, “Oh, The Eagles. I’ve heard of them.” But really, I’m not one who would normally pick up a book to read it because it’s about a rock star. However, I’ve really enjoyed the blog posts of Casey’s that I’ve read in the past. I knew she was a skilled writer, so I was curious to read her book. The sample she shared at her book release at BookPeople in March was tantalizing, and I was anxious to jump into reading the rest of the book.

I was not at all disappointed. As the book flap summarizes so concisely, Rock Monster is the “sexy, crazy, cautionary tale of two addicts in love without a single relationship skill.” For me, the book felt as though the masquerade ball scene from Labyrinth was taking place in the Upside Down of Stranger Things. Casey’s life with Walsh was filled with fame and luxury. She describes accompanying him on tours domestically and abroad while staying in hotels such as The Plaza. They visit places such as Australia, New Zealand, Japan and Switzerland. Their social lives involve contacts and friends from among the rich and famous; Casey casually mentions at one point that Lionel Richie had agreed to marry her and Walsh as though this is typical for most people when choosing the celebrant for their wedding ceremonies. Walsh gives Casey clothes from his ex-lover Stevie Nicks (who also joins them for parties) along with beautiful jewelry.

Yet despite all the opulence of the seeming fairy tale of romance and fame, there was a very dark side to the life that Casey and Walsh shared that was permeated with emotional, physical and substance abuse. At one point they were living in a penthouse, but there were few usable areas in the space due to Walsh’s clutter and mess. That outward physical disorder symbolically represented the rest of their relationship as well as Casey struggled to find her place in Walsh’s life despite being soulmates. They shared a kinky sex life, but one that met his needs more than hers. Casey painfully discovers that she is not and will not be Walsh’s creative muse. Often left on the sidelines waiting for him to beckon her, Casey loses her connection to herself in favor of following Walsh in his world. Emotionally, he is often neglectful, subjecting her to long periods of abusive silence.  Alternating with the neglect were periods of violent verbal rage where he abusively berated Casey in front of others. Add in a few physical fights, and the lack of relationship skills between them are very clear.

And then there are the drugs. Lots of drugs. Drugs in amounts that I didn’t think were possible to use and survive. As the relationship continues, their drug use escalates and begins to destroy Casey. At one point while on tour together, Ringo Starr offers to pay for Casey to enter rehab, a gift she declines because like so many with addiction issues, she wasn’t ready to admit she had a drug problem. Despite knowing that Casey is alive and well today, I read with trepidation as the book progressed because I knew rock bottom was coming, and I was worried about how bad it would be for her. As with most people with severe addiction issues, her rock bottom was truly horrendous, though it happened in a way I didn’t expect.

I was truly captivated by Casey’s story: I had to force myself to put the Rock Monster down and go to bed on two nights before finally finishing it on the third night. As with many well-written memoirs, the prose pulls the reader into the world of the author leaving them wanting more. I even woke up one night on two separate occasions having been dreaming about what I had read before bed!

At her book release, Casey stated that she thinks she has at least two more books in her. I hope that one of those books will be more details about her tale of healing, of working through the emotional abuse of her childhood that predisposed her to addiction issues and the turmoil of her life with Walsh. As she stated at the release, “We keep saying that kids are resilient, but they just aren’t.” This underlying truth leads to the dysfunctional adult lives that so many people in our society struggle with. Learning how Casey overcame her abusive past after hitting rock bottom to become a successful woman is a tale that many can benefit from hearing.

©2018 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., GreenHeartGuidance.com

Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.
 
I recently read a post about recommended new releases for feminists. On that list was Queer Sex: A Trans and Non-Binary Guide to Intimacy, Pleasure and Relationships by Juno Roche. The blurb for the book sounded great, and the recommendation was incredibly enthusiastic. Although I’m a heterosexual cisgender woman and ally, I want to learn more about experiences outside of my own around sexuality and gender so I located an advance copy of the book.
 
I quickly discovered I was not really part of the target audience for Queer Sex. Roche wrote this book as a way of working through her own issues around sex after having had bottom surgery in the UK. She was struggling with dating and what sex and relationships “should” be for her, so she turned to journaling and interviewing others. Those journal entries and interviews are then compiled into an awkward volume. Roche hoped that her book would serve to help others also struggling with the same issues. This is an incredibly important goal, and one that obviously needs far more exploration.
 
However, the result is that there is often not enough basic education for readers like me who came to the book with very little knowledge about the process of transitioning or the intricacies of surgery. For example, Roche begins talking about dilation after her surgery. To me, gynecological dilation is the cervix opening for a baby to be born. Obviously, that wasn’t what she was talking about, so I had to go do some research. Likewise, Roche interviews someone who talks about chemsex. Roche herself says she doesn’t know the terms involved with chemsex, but I didn’t even know what chemsex is. These are the types of concepts that a well-written and well-edited guide book would have made clear through a few sentences or a footnote.
 
Queer Sex clearly demonstrates that there is a huge gap in the NHS in the UK for helping individuals dealing with issues around their gender and sexuality. Unfortunately, Roche doesn’t explain how the process of gender surgery happens in the UK, so those of us who live elsewhere (including me in the US) can be confused by what she discusses. To me as an outsider, it seems truly unethical that the system would provide her with the changes to align her body with her identity but then not help support her in the emotional transitions and experiences that happen as well. Of course, I realize things are probably not much better for those in the US, but it left me wondering why this gap in support exists and how it could be fixed.
 
Roche clearly struggles with low self-esteem, and this comes through very clearly in her writing. While there is a time and place for exploring low self-esteem, a “guide” to queer sex doesn’t seem to be the appropriate place for it. Roche’s lead-in to the first interview is self-disparaging, and while she means it to be humorous, the result is actually painful to read as Roche’s account of herself comes across as self-loathing. So often throughout the book I just wanted to hug Roche and tell her to believe in herself, something she clearly struggles to do. To me, it felt as though Roche really needed to be working intensely with a sex therapist rather than writing a book. Her journaling from this time could easily be edited and integrated and included in a future work once she was grounded enough in herself to write a coherent narrative.
 
Amid all the missing information and poorly integrated personal emotion is some very important and very fascinating content that should have been the focus of the book. During the transcribed interviews in the book, Roche and her interviewees explore what it means to be trans and/or non-binary. These people are trying to understand their own bodies, both pre- and post-op, their sex drives, their attractions, and their orgasms. They discuss generational differences between transwomen and what’s expected of transwomen, how trans people define themselves, and how others define them. The book explores whether genital surgery is normative and whether or not being trans is still defined by a binary system (which most agree it is). They ask questions such as “Do you have to have female genitals to be a transwoman?” These issues are the heart of the book, but because they are only discussed in the transcribed interviews, they are not fully explored.
 
Overall, Queer Sex reads like the combination of a journal and series of interviews that hasn’t been well-integrated or well-edited into a unified work. The text is repetitious in places and very self-indulgent in others. Roche’s vulnerability and exploring her experience is wonderful, but her writing needed to be edited for coherence. Her prose is absolutely gorgeous at times, such as when she discusses interviewing Kuchenga who “has a strange little triangular house, with triangular rooms, on the edge of the roundabout. As I enter her domain, I feel instantly like we are in a story full of content. And as soon as she starts to unfurl her works, I remain almost spellbound for the next two hours or so. Unfurl her words she does with a kind of languid confidence that is sonically beautiful.” However, her writing isn’t able to shine because of the poor organization and editing. Queer Sex really feels like it was only half-done and rushed to press rather than taking the time to make it into the stellar book it could have been.
 
Queer Sex contains some very important content about issues that we all should be discussing. We are all sexual (or asexual) beings, and our society’s views on sexuality and gender are changing rapidly. Even as a heterosexual cisgender woman, I recognized issues that I personally have struggled with in the dating world that Roche touches upon. I hope in her future works, Roche spends more time integrating, exploring, and editing these important topics.
 
©2018 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., GreenHeartGuidance.com

​I attract engineers. It’s just a fact of my life that I have come to accept. For 40 of my 43 years, I have lived with engineers or future engineers. I’m the daughter, ex-wife and mother of engineers. Over half of the men I have dated have been engineers. I don’t go looking for them, but yet somehow engineers find me or I find them unintentionally. When I mentioned to a friend that a man I was newly dating was an engineer, she replied, “Of course he is. What else would he be?” I suspect that it might be quicker when talking to men about their careers if I just asked them what type of engineer they are rather than inquiring them what they do for a living. Chances are that they are an engineer.

Engineers are a unique group of people with brains that function in a way that is somewhat different from many others in society. While comics like Dilbert make fun of this engineer’s mindset, I am so accustomed to it that I find men who aren’t engineers to be the ones who are different thinking. Perhaps this is why I attract engineers: I know how to be at peace with their general mindset.

Thus, when a local intimacy coach mentioned that she was reading and absolutely loving Heart in Gear: An Engineer’s Erotic Journey to Freedom by Christopher Hoffman, I immediately purchased the book. I quickly read through it, fascinated by Hoffman’s story and amazed by his deep insights and his life growth. The book was far more than I had expected or hoped for.

Like many people, Hoffman found himself in a completely unsatisfying marriage after 20 years. Having been unable to improve the relationship through counseling, Hoffman reached a crossroads. With the encouragement of friends, he left his dysfunctional marriage, began rebuilding his life and found his deepest self. Heart in Gear details how Hoffman’s life evolves professionally, psychologically, and sexually as he worked to become a happier person.

Hoffman’s journey is filled with many fun and very sexy moments that he details explicitly, but he also encounters pain along the way. As he notes, “I learned not to be afraid of big emotions. Feeling pain was just a sign that what I was encountering mattered” (146). Through exploring that pain, Hoffman finds some of the deeper truths about himself and life. One of his first steps in the journey was discovering, “There are people trying to reach us, but they can’t penetrate into our hearts—not because we aren’t listening to them, but because we aren’t listening to ourselves” (53).

Once Hoffman realizes that he has to be accountable for his own emotions, desires, and behaviors rather than depending on others to shape him, he is able to enter relationships that are more soul-empowering. Rather than trying to fix everything and everyone around him (a very male and very engineer approach to life), Hoffman discovered that the healthier approach is to accept others as they are and to appreciate them for their genuine selves. Through this full acceptance of others, Hoffman found that his sexual connection with others became far more intimate and powerful than ever before. In his words, “I unplugged my cock from my ego and plugged it into my heart” (108).

I recommend Heart in Gear for any man (but especially engineers and their partners) who is wanting to learn more about himself, to heal his wounds and to be a better romantic partner. For a short and very easy to read book, Heart in Gear is filled with some very deep and powerful insights that have the potential to open up new worlds to its readers.
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©2018 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Many of my clients and I identify as highly sensitive people. We experience the world with an intensity that the majority of the population does not. Elaine Aron, Ph.D, does a good job explaining the basics of people who are like this in her book The Highly Sensitive Person: How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You, but for many of us, we are so sensitive that we experience things that Aron doesn’t begin to touch on.

After a major tragedy, those of us who are sensitive become much more affected than the general population. That doesn’t mean that others aren’t compassionate, loving and helpful and that they aren’t empathetic to all that is happening. For people who are highly sensitive, however, they can experience genuine and very intense physical and emotional pain just by observing others suffering. The devastation currently going on around us from Hurricane Harvey is causing that kind of corporeal reaction for many who aren’t directly impacted. We know the hurt that those people are feeling, and we’re feeling their pain in our own hearts, too.

For those in Austin, where I live, I am also seeing survivor’s guilt beginning to crop up among clients. We know all too well that those who are suffering in Houston could be (or may actually be) family and friends. They also could be us. Austin is 3-4 hours from Houston and the Gulf Coast. It’s an easy drive. We got rain from Harvey in Austin, but nothing like the catastrophic levels on the coast. Had things been different, we could have been the ones dealing with horrendous damage. Many are beginning to ask the existential question of why them and not us when we live so close to each other.

So how does someone who is sensitive cope with the aftermath of a major tragedy or natural disaster like Harvey? It takes a lot of effort to keep one’s sanity, but it is possible to do it. One of the first things you should do is turn of the television news. All of it. There is not a single channel that is presenting news in a way that won’t impact a sensitive person in a negative fashion. The news is designed to be sensational and to grab your heartstrings. You don’t need that right now. That doesn’t mean you have to totally ignore the news. If you want to stay informed, read the headlines only on a non-sensational site such as APnews.com. Most other news sites are going to be using the same emotional manipulation that the tv news stations use to grab and keep your attention. This isn’t healthy for anyone, but it’s really not healthy for sensitive folks. Read only stories that you absolutely must read to get necessary information.

I also get a lot of info from headlines on Twitter. I have a feed set up that is limited to people who don’t post sensationalism. It lets me stay informed but not overwhelmed. When I do start to feel overwhelmed, I take at least a 24 hour break from social media. Sometimes it requires me to take several weeks away from social media, and that’s ok. It helps keep me sane. I also find my tolerance for Facebook is much lower than Twitter, probably because it’s hard to avoid reading negative comments because of how Facebook’s layout works. And for heaven’s sake, never read the comments on a journalistic site!

When you do look at news, try to focus on the positive aspects of humanity. There are many stories about heroes and helpers from Harvey circulating on the web right now. Those are the stories you should read. They will help keep you moving forward because they make you realize that one person can impact many other people through very small gestures. This story about a ten year old girl helping others in a shelter she is staying in is one such example.

Also, while being bombarded by so many negative stories and events right now, make your recreational viewing lighthearted and uplifting. I’ve been wanting to watch season 5 of House of Cards, but I can’t do it right now because the show is too dark and too realistic for the world we’re living in right now. I ended up binge watching The Good Place while we were inside during Harvey’s rains, and it’s a fun comedy that still deals with some pretty cerebral topics. Find whatever will make you smile or laugh, and indulge in that.

After keeping yourself protected, what can you actually do to help with Harvey and other devastating events? The first thing a sensitive has to do is accept that you can’t fix it all. You shouldn’t try. Many of us will see the big picture and realize that there are hundreds of thousands of people suffering. As we play out all the devastation that they are enduring in our minds, we overwhelm ourselves with too much information and too much to fix. Don’t go there. It doesn’t mean you’re being unsympathetic to all of the suffering around you. It means you are being realistic about what you can do, and it also means you are taking care of yourself. So rather than becoming overwhelmed trying to contemplate the entire tragedy, bring the big picture down to a more manageable size. Focus on what you can actually do to help and on doing your part of the solution. While what you do won’t solve every problem out there, if each of us does something, that will make a difference. All of the little things add up quickly. There are so many different ways to help, so your challenge is to figure out how best you can give.

One of the easiest ways for many who have reasonable or abundant income is to give money. Financial donations can be used to buy supplies in bulk and help with overhead costs for shelters and relief organizations. I’m not going to list any links because there are so many websites out there right now with various organizations you can help. I personally chose to split my donations between two groups, one which helps humans and one which helps animals. Most importantly, if you are giving money, please don’t take this donation from the non-profits you normally support. They are still going to need assistance, too. Instead, find a different place in your budget to make the sacrifice to help those in crisis.

If you worry about giving money to an organization and it not making it to the intended recipients, then there are many drives for items happening around Austin. Diapers, menstrual hygiene products, new underwear, cleaning supplies, and non-perishable food items are among some of the things being collected. If all you can afford to do is buy an extra bar of soap or can of beans and add it to a collection basket, that little bit still helps. You have given as much as you can, and that donation will be very much appreciated by someone on the receiving end of the line.

The next way you can help is by giving your time and labor, especially if you are in areas that are adjacent to the tragedy like Austin is. There are so many different ways to go about doing this. Figure out what special talents or skills you have and if any of those can assist those currently suffering. I have seen posts about midwives, aromatherapists, therapists, lawyers, musicians, ministers and more volunteering their professional services to those affected by the hurricane.

For those whose talents aren’t easily applied in the current situation, general labor is needed, too. The Red Cross is full with volunteers from what I’ve heard, but other groups need help as they hold fundraisers and drives. If your church, neighborhood school, business or other community association is helping out, join in with them. Foster families for animals who are displaced by the storm are very much needed in Austin, too. Givepulse.com is listing local ways to get involved in Texas.

Another way that you can assist with efforts is to help the helpers. For example, due to my current medical treatments, I am not physically strong enough to work at a shelter or a drive. I’m realistic about that. However, what I can do is take my kids for an extra evening so that my ex-husband, who is healthy and able-bodied, can go volunteer more of his time to the recovery effort. Aside from providing childcare, consider helping with driving if needed for volunteers or events. Offer to listen to those sharing the stories of their experiences helping during a tragedy because they will need emotional support. Make a meal for friends or neighbors working as volunteers so when they get home from a long day of being on their feet, their self-care cups will get a bit of replenishment.

If there is nothing else you can give because of your own difficult personal circumstances, then pray or send good thoughts out to those who are suffering and those who are helping. Studies have shown that prayer does make a difference for people who are ill, even if they don’t know that they are being prayed for. I truly believe we can impact our world through our thoughts, so send out positive ones to those who need them in this stressful and horrendous time.

Most of all throughout the recovery from this tragedy, if you are highly sensitive, don’t try take on others’ pain. This is a downfall that many sensitive healers often engage in. We want to help others so much that we metaphysically and emotionally take on the burdens of others when they aren’t ours to endure. It’s a hard lesson to learn that if you take on others’ pain, you will make yourself sick(er). During all of your efforts to help, you need to keep yourself well so you can continue to help in whatever ways you can. Taking on others’ pain for them will not truly help them or you.

©2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

A few weeks ago, I went to an appointment with a new pain specialist. The appointment, from start to finish, was a royal disaster. The receptionist was rude, the nurse who checked me in and took my vitals was demeaning, and the doctor spent three total minutes with me before telling me that he refused to accept me as a pain patient because… wait for it… I have chronic pain. You can’t make things like that up. As I left the office, I was devastated by how things had gone. I felt as though the world was rejecting me.

I had some time before my next appointment, so I decided to do some self-care by walking a labyrinth. The Westlake United Methodist Church was on my path to my next appointment, so I stopped there. It’s a labyrinth I’d walked several years previously, and I knew it was by the entrance and parking so I wouldn’t have to walk too far on a day when my pain levels were high (and rising due to stress).

When I got to the parking lot, I was greeted by a surprise that I didn’t remember being there the previous time I’d visited. In addition to the legally required disabled parking spots, there were also a large number of parking spots labeled “For The Less Mobile RESERVED.” I almost cried. While I have a disabled parking permit, there are often not enough disabled spots at large event venues. I’m guessing this church has an aging population that knows they need more disabled parking available. They also probably recognize that not everyone with limited mobility has a disabled parking permit. When I was eight months pregnant with twins, my mobility was very limited but I was not legally disabled at that point nor did I have a disabled parking permit. I definitely would have been grateful for a closer parking spot, though!

Since I was there on a weekday morning, the parking lot at Westlake UMC was almost completely empty, and I had my choice of parking spots. However, knowing that this church recognizes those with disabilities and physical limitations and not only accepts them but makes them feel welcome was incredibly powerful. I had just come from a medical office which shunned me for having the very medical condition they treat, yet this church welcomed me with open arms before I had even gone through the doors. The wording on the signs in their lot is compassionate and accepting to all those who might need a little extra assistance in the form of closer parking. If I were looking for a church, this is the type of thing that would let me know that my presence was very much wanted in their community.
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©2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Over a year ago, I managed to get my heart bruised, not for the first time in recent years. In fact, it felt like the 142nd time, though in reality, it hasn’t been quite that many. However, the pain of a bruised heart always seems to be magnified in the moment. As I was going through the pain of this deep hurt, I said to the other person involved that I would just add it to my long list of recent screwups. Yet the other person didn’t see me as having failed; rather, he saw me as having been brave.

For me, being called brave is a trigger to anger and frustration. It’s not much different to me than “you’re so strong,” another catchphrase that I find utterly exasperating. When people use these phrases with me, I always ask or tell them, “What other choice do I have? I can either surrender to the pain and misery of my life, or I can keep fighting.” To me, there really is no choice between those options.

As I began reading Brené Brown’s Rising Strong for a book group, her words began to help me pinpoint why I find being called brave so frustrating. She writes,

For me, the frustration comes from those who only want to see the sanitized version of my life. They aren’t interested in seeing the struggle and pain. By calling me brave, I fear that people are denying and demeaning the very real challenges I endure every single day. That fear may not be grounded in reality every time, but it's what the situations feel like to me based on past experiences.

Brown’s exploration of what it means to be brave in the face of what she calls “falls” (but what most would call failure) builds on the themes of her previous works on shame and vulnerability. It is a call for readers to live genuine lives that by definition must experience falls in order to move forward and grow.  Brown states, “To pretend that we can get to helping, generous, and brave without navigating through tough emotions like desperation, shame, and panic is a profoundly dangerous and misguided assumption.” Yet most people want life to be that easy. They want to believe that being strong and brave is uncomplicated. It's not. Strength and bravery often encompass a great deal of hidden pain.

Reading Brown’s Rising Strong helped me come to terms with what others see as brave in my behavior; before reading it, I truly didn’t understand what others were seeing in me. However, for me, this is simply how I live my life. I would rather fall flat on my face from having tried and failed than to have regrets about the things I might have done. To me, it doesn’t feel brave at all. It just feels like being me. It also feels horribly painful at times. 

For those who want to live their lives in a "braver" way, I highly recommend Brown's Rising Strong. It offers great insight about learning to face one's own stories that we tell ourselves to deceive ourselves and keep ourselves from living a more truthful life. The book details ways to be open and genuine with others. And most importantly, the book acknowledges the pain of falling flat on one's face when things don't go as planned. Brown truly understands all that it takes to live a genuine life, something few people in our society are strong enough to do.

​©2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

In October 2016, football player Earl Thomas was so excited about a scoring a touchdown that he expressed his joy by hugging a referee. In response, the referee flagged him. Many people felt this was an overreaction on the part of the referee, but was it? Did Thomas have a right to hug anyone in his exuberant moment?

This isn’t the only hugging incident in the media in recent months. Pop star Kesha had a hug refused by comedian Jerry Seinfeld who didn’t recognize her. According to CNN, “[Seinfeld] denied her three times and even stepped away from her when she tried to touch him.” In response, Seinfeld stated, “`I don't hug a total stranger. I have to meet someone, say hello. I gotta start somewhere.’” That seems like a more than reasonable position for anyone nonetheless a famous individual who has to deal with a lot of fans without appropriate boundaries.
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In my opinion, it’s very common for men to try to hug women without their consent. Recently Marco Rubio went to hug Ivanka Trump who stiffly refused his advances. Back during the preparation for debates for the 2016 Presidential election, Hillary Rodham Clinton actually practiced evading a hug from her stand-in for Donald Trump. The video of the rehearsal is actually quite funny. As amusing as the parody was, the reality behind it is not. A very high-power woman who has been one of our nation’s leaders was rehearsing an encounter with another now prominent politician. Part of that rehearsal was intentionally trying to make sure this man, one who has admitted on video to having sexually assaulted women, did not violate Clinton's boundaries by trying to hug her. Her aide got rather into the roleplaying and went a tad overboard creating the humor. Had he not been someone she was close to, this video wouldn’t be funny at all. However, the message behind it is powerful: Even women who are world leaders have to work hard to avoid being manhandled in hugs that they don’t want.
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It's not just women, though. James Comey admitted to trying to hide in the White House curtains to avoid encountering Donald Trump who then tried to hug Comey despite Comey making the first gesture towards a handshake only. Trump is someone who is very aware of the power of dictating physical boundaries with those around him. He shows this not only through his unwanted hugs but through his ridiculous handshake politics.

Hugging is a very strange thing in our culture. I grew up in a family where hugging was not a part of the family dynamics. I don’t remember my parents ever hugging me. When I was in high school, I joined a youth group where hugging was a part of the culture. We all hugged each other as a greeting just as most would say hello or goodbye. I discovered I really liked hugging my friends. As I have gone forward in life, I have raised my children in a home where hugging is a daily occurrence. Their parents hug them, and they hug each other. I am very comfortable with hugging among those I’m close to.

However, with strangers, I don’t always feel that comfort. Once I entered the dating world in my post-divorce life, I began experiencing what I dubbed as “the consolation hug.” After a date which was suboptimal, men would give me a hug after declining to have any further dates with me. To me, the consolation hug was unwanted and unwarranted. It felt like the men were implicitly saying to me, “I know I just hurt you, and I feel bad about it. However, I am not aware enough to think about how hugging you might feel to you. I’m just trying to console myself into thinking I’m a decent guy by hugging you to show there are no hard feelings. Whether you want to be hugged or not is irrelevant to my thought process. I just need to feel better about how I just treated you, and hugging you will make me feel better about myself.” I began loathing the consolation hug though I never got very good at evading it.

At one point I went to a Meetup where I ran into a man whom I had previous interactions with. He knew I was attracted to him, but he was not attracted to me. We were both clear on where things stood between us, and despite our history, we managed to have a great conversation together throughout the meal. When we walked out together, he very unexpectedly gave me what felt like another consolation hug. I fumed internally about that hug for quite a while, and then I finally sent an angry email to him very unjustly accusing him of doing something that was demeaning to me. He was understandably clueless as to why I was upset because he looked at that hug in a very different way than I did. He explained to me that he had been raised as a Southern gentleman, and the appropriate social custom was to shake men’s hands when saying goodbye and to hug women. He meant nothing beyond that.

When I took this new information about Southern social customs into consideration, I realized this man was right. Every single man who had given me a “consolation hug” was actually a Southerner. The men who did not were raised in the North. Suddenly a lot more made sense. Having lived in the South for 25 years now, though, I was clear that Southern culture very much dictates that women’s bodies are not their own. This social custom of hugging women without their consent was just one more sign of that mistreatment of women. It’s at the foundation of our rape culture. Men should not automatically have the right to hug women, yet in a culture that doesn’t respect women’s boundaries, a hug is seen as appropriate behavior for men towards women (but not towards other men). Once again, we’ve encountered a situation where we need the societal rule to be “yes means yes” rather than “no means no.” Unless people have indicated that it is ok to touch them, then it’s not ok to randomly hug them.

I recently went out to dinner with a man I had never met before. We spent a wonderful evening talking, and at the end he very respectfully asked me, “Do you hug?” These are just three simple words, but they raised my opinion of him even higher than it already was. It told me that he respected women and their boundaries. He knew that I might not want him touching me. However, I am a person who hugs when the situation feels right, and it definitely did feel right in this case. I walked away from this hug feeling appreciated rather than violated. It would be great if all hugs left people feeling the same way.

​©2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

I’ve been having neck pain in the past few weeks that I knew was of an emotional, metaphysical or spiritual origin. I’ve been trying to figure out what is causing it so that I can heal the problem and relieve the pain. When I began meditating on it a few weeks ago, the first word I heard was “Cecilia.” I assumed this meant Saint Cecilia, the patron saint of musicians, because there is no one named Cecilia currently in my life. I remember this tidbit of Catholic school information because there was a nun at my school who was Sister Cecilia. She had been given the name Cecilia when she entered the convent because she was a musician. (However, as an aside, everyone called her Sister Bonjour because she was French and greeted all the toddlers she was in charge of in the morning before school with a beautiful “bonjour.”)
 
I was initially very puzzled as to why I should call on St. Cecilia for help with my neck pain. I’m not a musician. I can’t sing. I can’t play an instrument. I am even terrible at remembering the names of songs or bands. St. Cecilia just isn’t someone I would think would be too relevant to me. I decided to break from my meditation and Google what else St. Cecilia was the patroness of. Some saints are patron saints of many people, places and things. St. Anne, the grandmother of Jesus, for example, is known as the patron saint of “Brittany, Canada, Detroit, carpenters, childless people, equestrians, grandparents, homemakers/housewives, lace makers, lost articles, Fasnia (Tenerife), Mainar, miners, mothers, moving house, old-clothes dealers, poverty, pregnancy, seamstresses, stablemen, sterility, and children.” But St. Cecilia? She’s just the patron saint of musicians and other music related things. That idea hit a rapid dead end, so I went back to meditating on my neck pain.
 
I continued seeing other symbols in my meditation that weren’t too helpful in understanding why I should call on St. Cecilia for help, but eventually it came to me. The neck is part of the fifth chakra. The fifth chakra is about communication and being heard. Music is often vocal and is a way of communicating. Hence, St. Cecilia suddenly made a lot more sense.

In order to help me understand this, my spirit guides relied on my combined knowledge of Catholicism and Hinduism. For my spirit guides, they don’t see any problem with mixing faiths together in a fusion spirituality. What matters to them is healing and serving the highest good. There is no one faith that has the market cornered on those things. The Other Side doesn’t care what religion claims what. In my visions, I see Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish, Hindu, Pagan, and Native American symbols. The healing work I do integrates all of them without judgment or prejudice. Some aspects of spirituality, such as holy water, mystics, pyramids, labyrinths, and animal guides, are found in different religious and spiritual traditions in very diverse cultures around the world.
 
When it all boils down, the phenomenon humans label as “God” is too intense, too immense, too pervasive, too all-powerful and too all-consuming to be contained by any one religious tradition. The Spirit of pure love, energy and light pervades all attempts to find it, and as humans, it is our job to access this Spirit however we can encounter it in our lives. Spirituality belongs to no one group, and we all have access to its gifts. We should actively use these gifts to help heal ourselves and our world.
 
As I was Googling for Creative Commons or public domain artworks of St. Cecilia for this blog post, I came upon the statue showing St. Cecilia’s three neck wounds. Further research found that, “The legend about Cecilia’s death says that after being struck three times on the neck with a sword, she lived for three days, and asked the pope to convert her home into a church.” Suddenly I had an additional understanding of why St. Cecilia might be able to help me with releasing the trauma in my neck that was causing me pain. The sword marks on the neck of this statue of St. Cecilia are fairly accurate for where my neck pain is. While many saints were beheaded over the centuries, I suspect that it is the combination of her fatal neck trauma and her work with the fifth chakra that led my spirit guides to instruct me to ask for St. Cecilia’s help with my healing. As I continue working on healing the emotional traumas and past-life traumas that created the metaphysically rooted pain in my neck, I ask for Saint Cecilia’s assistance in my efforts.
 
© 2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

The Japanese art of Kintsugi (also known as Kintsukuroi) involves the repair of broken pottery. Rather than discarding broken pieces, as most of us would probably do in our disposable culture, the pottery is repaired using a gold filling. The object is then regarded as perfect in its imperfection. The filled cracks give character to the pieces that they previously did not have.
 
The idea of people as objects of Kintsugi has been in my head a lot lately. I recently attended a continuing education seminar on trauma. During her presentation, the speaker gave the statistic that around 50% of people have faced trauma in their lives. She asked the group of predominantly psychotherapists, “Doesn’t that seem high to you?” Actually, to me, it seemed low.
 
In my opinion, by the time we reach midlife, almost all of us have faced trauma. Official statistics say one in four women have been sexually abused; I suspect that statistic is closer to one in two. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce. Car accidents happen on a daily basis leading to the deaths of 1.3 million deaths globally each year. Natural disasters kill tens of thousands (and some years, hundreds of thousands) each year. Then there is war, one of the most horrific human-made events that also kills thousands each year and leaves millions more scarred for life.
 
Those who survive these tragedies are left to face the trauma of having lost loved ones and having endured horrific events. It’s very rare for a person not to have been affected by one of these by the time they reach 40. By old age, the statistic has to be close to 100% of us. Every one of us has “baggage.” For some, the baggage can be stowed in the overhead bin and/or under the seat in front of us. For others, the baggage overflows into neighboring seats and clogs the aisle. It’s rare, though, that we travel through life without any baggage along the ride.
 
Yet despite all of these traumas, each of us is an amazing human being. Each of us is lovable, even if we are a person who has done atrocious things. It may be harder to find those redeeming qualities in some of the most damaged members of society, but they are there, buried under the trauma and injury that we both create and sustain from others.
 
All of these traumas we face break us into pieces just as the pottery cracks when it hits the floor. So, too, are we works of Kintsugi if we choose to be. We all have been broken, but we can be repaired. If we chose to work on our traumas and we chose to move forward in life, we can heal. We will never be the same as the innocent child who was born into the world so many years ago. However, we can fill our cracks with gold to create a new and beautiful person. While the process is slow and difficult, we can attain a new state of beauty. Our repaired damage can make us even more beautiful than we were before we faced the most difficult challenges of our lives.
 
© 2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

(Trigger Warning: Infant Loss)

Eighteen years ago I held my firstborn daughter for the very first time. She didn’t move. She didn’t cry. Her spirit had left her body hours before.

Her labor had been typical until she was crowning (the very last stage before birth). Then, her heartbeat suddenly disappeared. When she was born, the midwife took her away and began working on her immediately, shouting for someone to call the paramedics. I couldn’t see my daughter. No one told me what was going on, but I was so exhausted that I didn’t actually understand what was happening anyway. My daughter hadn’t begun breathing, and CPR wasn’t working.

Her father rode with her in an ambulance to the children’s hospital. They continued working on my daughter at the hospital until an hour after her birth when they called it. She was gone. She had come so close to living and yet she hadn’t made it.

A few hours after her birth, the midwife drove me to the hospital to meet my daughter for the first and last time. As I held her in my arms, I was shocked to look on her face. I knew children looked like their parents, but I hadn’t realized my daughter was going to look like me. We spent a precious but far too short amount of time with her in the hospital until we needed to leave.

Eighteen years ago as the midwife drove us back to the birthing center to do an exam on me and then to send us home, I looked out over the rush hour traffic. It made no sense to me. How could all of these people be going on like nothing had happened? My daughter had died.

Eighteen years ago.

​© 2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

(Contains very mild spoilers.)

When I was in the seventh grade, we had summer required reading for English class. One of those books was Anne of Green Gables. It quickly became a favorite of mine, and I have reread it and its first seven sequels more times than I can count. The Anne of Green Gables mini-series (1985) with Megan Follows, Colleen Dewhurst, and Richard Farnsworth also quickly became a beloved favorite. (More recently seeing Follows play the evil Queen Mary of France in Reign was mind-blowing. She definitely was no longer the sweet little Anne she once played!)

Now, more than thirty years later, Netflix has created a new version of the Anne of Green Gables story in Anne with an E. This series makes it clear from the start that it is not going to be a remake of the previous version. Its opening credits have a very modern song, “Ahead by a Century,” sung by the Tragically Hip, one that made me wonder if this wasn’t a mistake on my part to watch the series.

However, aside from the opening song, I was incredibly pleased by the new interpretation of a perennial classic in the first few episodes. Perhaps the most stunning thing to me was the idea that Anne Shirley actually had C-PTSD. Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is a result of an ongoing traumatic situation such as child abuse rather than a one-time incident such as rape or a hurricane which still can easily cause PTSD. This presentation makes great sense because it is likely that Anne would have had C-PTSD. She lived in an orphanage on-and-off throughout her child, enduring several out-placements with homes where she was treated as slave. While the book mentions her previous misery, it doesn’t dwell on it. Instead, it focuses on the happiness of Green Gables.

In this new interpretation, though, Anne is prone to spacing out in flashbacks to the terrors of her previous life. Like so many with PTSD and C-PTSD, she dissociates from her current situation when triggered by things that seem unimportant or trivial. This new version makes the hell of her previous living situations explicitly clear and might be triggering for someone who has endured similar abuse. After seeing these flashbacks, Anne’s amazing stories and vivid imagination suddenly take on new meaning when she explains, “I like imagining better than remembering.” Who can blame her when the other option is living in a mental hell of a torturous past?

Anne with an E is much darker and more painful than the book or the previous mini-series, but it’s likely far more accurate. Not only is Anne’s past pain and ongoing suffering clear, but her stressful initial relationship with Marilla Cuthbert, her adoptive mother, is not softened in any way by rose-colored glasses. Marilla clearly is from an older generation which is not great at parenting, and it is her adoptive father Matthew’s love that makes Anne’s life tolerable as she adjusts to her new situation at Green Gables.

Anne also struggles with the taunts of area children (again, triggering traumatic memories from her life at the orphanage) and their parents as they judge her for her paltry looks, unknown origins, and strange behaviors. She doesn’t feel accepted and welcomed, and after being tormented at school, Anne falls into a major depression which includes flashbacks to her tortured past when she experienced similar situations. This change, too, is more likely the road Anne would have faced rather than the rosy version in Montgomery’s original work.

The series eventually strays greatly from the book. It starts simply by containing new scenes such as Anne signing the family Bible and becoming a Cuthbert; in the book, her name was never changed from Shirley. There’s also a fire at the Gillis family home wherein Anne becomes the hero for implausible reasons; I did object to that diversionary change in the story line. By the end of the seven episodes, the characters were still the same beloved ones from Montgomery’s books, but this new, more realistic perspective on their lives had taken the storyline in a very different direction from the original source.

Even though I tend to be a purist when it comes to movie adaptations of books, I really liked the changes in Anne with an E. They brought a touch of realism to a lifelong favorite of mine, and told a story that brought the original even closer to the path I’ve traveled in life. I suspect this new interpretation may help many people come to terms with their own abusive pasts, realizing that they don’t have to be completely happy and in denial about the hell that they have survived. What they have endured was truly traumatic, and it should have impacted them just as it did for Anne with an E.

©2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

​(I received a free copy of Unstrung from Netgalley in return for an honest review.)

On a whim, I previously purchased Laura Spinella’s Ghost Gifts because of its subject matter. I quickly became engrossed in a novel that embodied romance, mystery, and the metaphysical. Not only was the story of Ghost Gifts addictive to me, but Spinella’s words themselves rapidly became captivating. She is one of those authors whose prose is like poetry, flowing smoothly across the page and roping the readers in so that they stay up all night reading her work. Ghost Gifts is one of the best books I’ve read in recent years.

Upon finishing Ghost Gifts, I quickly turned to the internet and was delighted to find that Spinella had a new novel, Unstrung, about to release. As I began the story, the main character Livy (Olivia Klein) is reading and ridiculing Ghost Gifts as being a preposterous book. I love when an author (or anyone, really) can laugh at herself.

As I progressed into Unstrung, I found myself enjoying a much more intense read than I expected. I actually had to take break from reading the novel because it touched on some very deep topics that are close to my heart. The plot seemed simple and somewhat superficial at first: Livy, a first chair violinist, is having major marital problems with her second husband. Her best friend and lawyer helps her through legal troubles, and Livy is serving out community service time at a local school for students with life challenges.

However, once one gets into Unstrung, the powerful theme of loss appears as the overarching tie between the characters of the book. The theme of loss applies to so many parts of the characters’ lives: illness, death, miscarriage, money, love, adoption, abuse, addiction, tragedy, broken relationships, divorce, and dreams. As Livy and those around her struggle with these painful issues, their lives come together in unexpected ways.

As much as I loved the majority of the work and as much as it challenged me to examine issues around loss in my own life, the improbable ending was a let-down. These were not the directions I could have seen for the characters, and they were not ones that felt realistic to me. I would have chosen a very different ending had I written Unstrung. However, despite the ending, Unstrung is a fabulous novel. I look forward to reading more by Spinella.

©2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

The day after the 2017 Presidential inauguration, my 16 year old daughter came downstairs and asked me, “Is it true? Did they really get rid of the LGBT pages on the White House site?” Sadly, yes, it is true. I was amazed that she was puzzled by this happening. She continued asking me, “But who did that? How can they do that?” I let her know that the Republicans were in power now, and the new Presidential staff was more than legally allowed to remove any pages they wanted from the White House website. They want to make those in the LGBTQ+ community disappear. They want to restrict rights for those who are not heterosexual. They are going to try to repeal gay marriage. This is the way the next four years are going to be.

My daughter just sat there, looking dismayed. Her reaction made me realize on a deeper level what a privileged upbringing her life has been in terms of gay rights. She has grown up in a home where all people are seen as equal regardless of their sexual preferences, orientation or identity. Her grade school principal was an out lesbian who was partnered with one of the teachers at the school. Our nuclear family has friends and extended family members who are LGBTQ+. My daughter has been raised in a world where all of that is seen as so normal and acceptable it doesn’t even need comment. In her world, people are sexual beings, and any range of consensual sexual activity and identity is fine, most especially when it stems from love.

Yet back in the real world, members of the LGBTQ+ community still face daily discrimination. Not everyone is as accepting as our nuclear family. My daughter has never really known this except in the fact that gay marriage wasn’t legal until a few years ago. She doesn’t have the memories I have of being raised Catholic and being taught that homosexuality was a sin. She doesn’t remember the shock in a community when someone “came out.” She doesn’t realize the horrible stigma that HIV/AIDS initially had as a wrongly-perceived gay disease. She doesn’t understand the history of violence that was so prevalent and still continues in many places against those who are LGBTQ+.

I hate that my daughter’s innocence is being shattered, though I know she was privileged to be able to hold on to living in a utopia for as long as she did. Now, the issues of the LGBTQ+ community are personal to her. She is a proud ally. Her best friend is transgender. When my daughter’s friend announced his transition and his new name, she accepted him without question and knew her parents and siblings would, too. Now she is having to deal with the fact that the new order wants to make her best friend disappear, just like those webpages that were suddenly gone within hours of the inauguration. Yet she, like me and so many other allies, is not ok with that. They will not make those we love disappear just by removing a webpage. We will continue to fight to make all people visible and equal. In less than two years, she will be a registered voter, and she will be doing her part to make change happen in the mid-term elections as well.

​©2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Like many in this nation, I’ve been using denial as a coping technique over the past two months. I’ve been trying to believe that somehow, miraculously, the shift in power we were dreading would not happen. I was hoping that it was all a bad dream or a horrible joke. It’s not, though. Our lives are about to change drastically.

The night of the election in November 2016, my 16 year old daughter came downstairs to the family room at about 10 pm from doing homework. Her twin and I were watching the returns come in with dismay. She had just received a text from her boyfriend about the ominous news. Her only words were, “Tell me it’s not true.” I had to tell her it was. She then asked, “Can we move to Canada?” Given that we have family there, it’s not too outrageous of a request.

My daughter’s reaction left me thinking. Her boyfriend is a darker skinned racial minority whose parents were immigrants to the US. Her best friend is transgender. Her mother is disabled. She is almost a woman. Her world is going to be drastically impacted by the changes that result from the election.

My life is also going to be impacted as well; the obvious is that I am a woman and I am disabled. Both of those groups have been declared targets of hatred in the new era, and I personally have already experienced it. I fully expect large parts of the Americans with Disabilities Act to be repealed because the ADA costs money to businesses in order to make them fully accessible, and in the new order, corporate money is far more important than those with disabilities.

There are other places where the new dawn is going to impact me. Without the Affordable Care Act, I am no longer insurable due to the past 14 years of health issues. I face insurance companies refusing to cover my medical bills because of my pre-existing conditions. Healthcare is going to be the most obvious place where I will feel the change.

Other places are less obvious at first glance, but they are real threats. I have never had an abortion in this life, and I hope I never have to. However, Roe v. Wade has ensured that abortion has always been an option in my lifetime. Now I am at a point in my life where I would have to terminate any pregnancy I might unintentionally conceive because of health issues, yet I expect Roe v. Wade to either be eliminated or heavily restricted in the coming year. If that is the case, I will have to limit my sexual partners to men who have had vasectomies or are otherwise sterile. I’m a little more than angry about (primarily older white men) deciding whom I can have sex with.

There are bigger fears, too. I spent the first part of my life living with a narcissist, and having a narcissistic man who uses gaslighting as one of his primary methods of communication in national power is triggering for me and for many others. Watching someone so ill-qualified and so mentally ill about to assume command of so many life-or-death decisions is truly terrifying, especially if one knows how fickle and dangerous narcissists can be.

I’ve spoken with my spirit guides, and they have assured me that the new Narcissist in Chief will not be pushing the big red button. However, they have also affirmed my fears that we are facing an ugly uphill battle in the near future. As a friend of mine phrased it, we are facing at a decision where we as a nation have to decide if we will be governed by fear or governed by love. As things stand now, we are heading toward being a nation governed by fear.

I choose not to live my life in that way, though. For me, the first question to any decision is always “What is the healthy decision?” That question is always accompanied by other similar supporting questions: “What will bring the most love into my life and the world?” “What will bring the most compassion to me, to others, and to humanity?” “What is the right thing to do even if it is the hardest?” I will continue to strive to hold those values dear even when the world around me is leaning in the opposite direction.

So for me, January 20th, 2017 is a day of mourning. I’m dressing in black, the traditional color of mourning in our culture. I’m letting myself grieve as hard as I need to, but I also am holding my heart in a place of love rather than a place of fear. While I can’t change the national or the global situation, I can keep working to enact change around me, helping those who aren’t accepted by others. I can keep working to get compassion enacted in our society on personal and legal levels.

The final words from “Memories” from the musical Cats have been echoing my head all day, prompting me to write this post. We are facing the new day, the new dawn, but we must hold tight to the memories that bring us hope and love.

Daylight
I must wait for the sunrise
I must think of a new life 
And I mustn't give in
When the dawn comes
Tonight will be a memory, too
And a new day will begin
​
©2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Trigger Alert: This post is about sexual abuse. 

I have been sexually abused by at least three different men in this lifetime. This is unfortunately not unusual. I’ve seen statistics that suggest one in four women have been sexually abused, but I suspect the number is closer to one in two. Likewise, I’ve seen numbers ranging from one in five to one in eight men have been sexually abused. No matter what the actual statistics are, the number of victims is still way too high.

I was recently speaking with someone who has a very young daughter. He knows of my history of sexual abuse, and so as a concerned parent, he asked me how I thought we could prevent it from happening to our children. After a moment to think about it, my answer was one that I don’t like but which I think is ultimately true: We can’t. Sexual abuse is going to happen. We can do some small things to try to ward it off. We can teach our children not to abuse others in hopes of lessening rates for future generations. But like most traumas and tragedies, even with the best preparation for prevention, it will still happen.

So what can we do try to reduce the number of children who are sexually abused short of locking our children into padded cells? The biggest thing we can do is teach our children that their bodies are their own, and no one should touch their bodies without their consent. Then we need to respect what we teach them. That means ending corporal punishment. That means stopping the horrible social custom of making our children hug and kiss distant relatives and unknown adult friends whom they don’t know or care about. It means letting our children know that they are the ones who are in charge of their bodies and “no” is an appropriate response when someone wants to touch them in a way they don’t feel comfortable with.

There are books for helping talk to children about sexual abuse in ways that aren’t scary. One is called “Your Body Belongs to You” written by Cornelia Maude Spelman and illustrated by Teri Weidner. The book frames body safety in a positive manner. There are no scary strange men ready to jump out of white vans to abduct children. The problem with the book: The page that says “Some places on your body should never be touched by other people—except when you need help in the bathroom or getting dressed or when you go to the doctor.” Two of my abusers were medical doctors acting in their official capacity but greatly taking advantage of the situation. These were men I should have been able to trust, but they acted in unethical ways and violated my body. The third man who sexually abused me was a relative, one who was greatly trusted by my parents. We also need to teach our children that even those they should be able to trust will sometimes act inappropriately.

So how do we figure out whom we can trust? The biggest way is to learn how to follow your gut feelings. Listen to that voice inside you when it tells you no. That inner voice is something or someone trying to protect you. If you feel unsafe or uncomfortable with a situation, then don’t put your child into it and/or don’t put yourself into it. Furthermore, if your child tells you, “I don’t trust that person,” listen to them. Find out why your child doesn’t feel comfortable. If it’s an instinctive response, respect your child’s intuition. Children are often far more in tune with their intuition than adults because they haven’t learned to ignore it through society’s mandates. Teach your children to respect their gut feelings, too.

Another very important aspect of sexual trauma is that victims are often not believed. If your children ever tell you that someone has touched them inappropriately, believe them. Do not punish them for what has happened to them. They are children, and they did not know what was happening to them. They were unable to give consent. No older child or adult ever should be touching them inappropriately. Instead, once you have listened to their version of events, seek counseling for them and report the event to the proper authorities. Hiding sexual trauma only allows it to continue, and others will likely become victims to the same perpetrators.

One other way to help reduce sexual trauma (which is not a method all will find palpable) is through energetic work on our second chakras. I believe that many of those who are sexually abused as young children have been sexually abused in previous lives. They come into this life with already damaged second chakras, and that weakness energetically attracts those who will abuse them again. Healing any damage to our children’s second chakras and/or strengthening their second chakras will reduce sexual predators’ attraction to them. This work can be done with talented energy workers who have already healed any sexual trauma they might have endured. If they have not healed their own traumas, you don’t want to have them working on you or your children.

Sexual abuse is scary. It scars us deeply, even when it happens at a very young age. The damage it causes can become the roots for physical illness as it did in my case. Thus, it’s very important that sexual abuse of children be taken seriously so that it does not cause a lifetime of damage. Preventative education can help children stop sexual trauma from happening, but if they don’t know that what is happening is wrong, they won’t be able to stop it. Likewise, education can help victims learn to report what happened rather than living with a sense of shame that they caused the abuse to happen to them. While we can’t always prevent sexual abuse from happening, we can support victims appropriately and prevent perpetrators from acting again.

©2017 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC

Full Disclosure: I received a free digital copy in exchange for an honest review by NetGalley. However, I also bought a paperback copy to share with the many friends whom I’d lent my copy of How Not to Fall.

We’ve all heard the saying, “The sequel is never as good as the original.” More often than not, it’s unfortunately true. We build up our hopes for something even more amazing than the story or movie which stole our heart. Unfortunately, our fantasies are often too great, and the eventual reality is disappointing. For me, this phenomenon happened with How Not to Let Go by Emily Foster. While I adored its predecessor, How Not to Fall, I was nowhere near as enthralled with the sequel. That’s not to say that How Not to Let Go wasn’t a good book: It just wasn’t as amazing as the first in the series.

How Not to Let Go continues the story of Annabelle and Charles, two lovers who met while she was a student and he was her supervisor. After her graduation, they began a torrid one month affair, ending it when she left for medical school in Massachusetts and he stayed on at his position as a post-doctoral researcher in Indiana. In the sequel, we witness the two trying to cope with their breakup, and after a year has passed, we get to join their journey as they work toward reuniting.

The story jumps back and forth between the US and England where Charles’ family of origin lives. While attending a conference, Annabelle and Charles meet for coffee but choose not to give into sexual temptation. However, when an overly convenient plot device of potential terrorist activity leads to Charles’ brother shutting down the London airports for security reasons, the two lovers spend several days at Charles’ brother’s home having abundant sex once again. Eventually, the two both end up in Massachusetts, and they continue to work through the relationship, its issues, and their individual problems.

I struggled to figure out why this sequel wasn’t as exciting for me as the first book. The process of falling in love is a powerful and wonderful one, and that first love part of Annabelle and Charles’ relationship happened in the first book. There’s no way to recreate that initial passion and romance as a relationship continues. Reunions are hot, and the sex that follows them is also quite intense, but it’s never quite the same as the beginning of a relationship. However, the sex scenes between Annabelle and Charles were still very arousing.

The means that Foster uses to push along the plot of the novel were often a bit too over the top for me. Rich geniuses (more than one in a family!), a trust fund, a potential terrorist attack, a conveniently located gorgeous home… it all just felt less real than the first novel. The more honest parts of the novel, the ones that involved family dynamics or relationship growth, were too few and far between. While often difficult to read because of how toxic the relationships were, the family scenes were the ones that kept my attention and made me want to keep reading. Unfortunately, the great family scenes were surrounded by extensive and detailed rock climbing adventures which became tedious for me.

Foster definitely writes for sapiosexuals, readers who are turned on by intelligence. In How Not to Let Go, though, the use of imagery to describe Charles’ psychological struggles becomes burdensom. Perhaps it is the kind of language and conversation that would happen between two psychiatrists, but for most of us, we don’t create such elaborate illustrations for our personal struggles.

The hardest part for me about the book was probably not due to the author or the book itself but was due to my own life. In the novel, Charles struggles with having an avoidant attachment style due to the dysfunctional family he grew up in. He’s the kind of guy who is commitment phobic as a result of having been hurt too much in the past by those he loved. However, unlike any man I’ve ever known who has an avoidant attachment style, Charles enters intensive psychotherapy to work on healing his wounds. He regularly flies across states to continue seeing the same therapist in person. He is determined to break through the psychological struggles that hold him back from having a healthy and secure attachment to Annabelle. Perhaps I was jealous of Annabelle having found a man who was willing to do this healing work for both himself and for her, but another part of me found it very unrealistic. That left me wondering how one finds a partner who have successfully done this powerful and deep healing work, because the people who have are very rare. Thus, another part of the book felt unrealistic to me, just in a way that made me feel jealous rather than bemused.

I definitely enjoyed reading How Not to Let Go, but it was a less passionate enjoyment than I felt for its predecessor. I have already recommended How Not to Let Go to a friend with an avoidant attachment style, but I probably won’t recommend it to others whom I shared the first book with. That said, I hope Foster plans to continue writing other novels which cater to sapiosexuals, which teach healthy sexual relationships, and which portray realistic sex scenes. The world of romance definitely needs books that fit this niche!
 
© 2016 Elizabeth Galen, Ph.D., Green Heart Guidance, LLC