Giving Well During the Holidays (and Beyond)

We have entered the time of year when many of us are considering what gifts we will give over the holidays. Most of these gifts are likely to be designated for family, friends, co-workers…perhaps also for neighbors, the postal worker, or you child’s teacher or the barista that knows exactly what you want before you place your order. In addition to this kind of giving, many of us will also give in some way to some type of charity, non-profit, ministry, “cause,” etc. Today I want to offer a few suggestions on ways to give well both now and throughout the year, inspired in part by my work in a domestic violence shelter. Each of the ideas below highlights an aspect of what I think it means to give well. It is certainly not an exhaustive list and I’m sure many of you have additional ideas you can share!

1. Make sure what you’re giving is what is needed (or even wanted)

We humans are often quite good at the art of assumption. We think we know. We even insist that we know. We have an idea or see one online or borrow an idea from someone else. But here’s the thing. Sometimes we’re wrong. Sometimes our idea is terrible. Sometimes it’s just mediocrely bad. Sometimes it’s counter-productive. Even with the best intentions. It’s super important in our giving to start with one key activity: listen. Listen. Listen. Ask what is needed (or wanted). Take the time to hear from the intended recipient(s) – whether this is an individual, a group, an organization.

Let me share a few examples from my shelter world. If you approached me today and told me your group wants to collect some items for the shelter and you’re wondering what would be helpful, here’s what I would tell you: Towels (they disappear the way socks disappear in the dryer). Coats for adults. Full-size hygiene products. Hair products for African-American hair. New sports bras (NOT regular bras). House shoes for children and adults. You know what I would tell you we don’t need? Coats for children. Feminine hygiene products. Travel size anything. Bibles. If you were to ask me two months from now, the lists could be completely different. Ask a different shelter and their needs could be completely different. I have literally cheered when towel donations arrived and some of our staff have recently begged me not to accept more travel size toiletries. Almost all of the items on the “not needed” list are things we have needed at various points in time – but storage space is limited and sometimes we get larger donations that fill the need from several months. Always check first before showing up with a load of donations.

2. Don’t create more work

This is another one that well-intentioned givers sometimes miss. Ask about the best way to provide certain items. Is it more convenient for the organization to have pre-assembled kits/bags/purses/backpacks of food/hygiene products/school supplies or is it more convenient to receive donations organized by item (a box of shampoo, box of notebooks, bag of pens, etc.)? This will vary, but it is really helpful to ask and can ensure you’re not actually creating more work for the staff or volunteers at that organization. In the case of our shelter, organizing donations by item is much more helpful (primarily due to storage space as well as a few other reasons) – unfortunately when a group doesn’t check first, we often end up having to disassemble pre-made kits. But for another group it may be incredibly helpful to receive donations in that way. Consider also whether you’re giving means an entire event has to be created around the donation – are you okay with backpacks being handed out as needed or are you expected the organization to organize an entire back-to-school event? And are you willing to volunteer and/or provide the additional resources needed for that event?

3. MAKE SURE you are valuing the dignity and worth of the recipients of your donations

Your donations should reflect your belief in the dignity and worth of the recipients. They should support empowerment. First of all, check your basic assumptions about and feelings toward the recipients. Feeling empathy & compassion? Great. Pity? No thanks. “Oh those poor __________”. Nope. “I’m sure they would be grateful for anything.” Please stop. Here’s the thing. People notice when you are looking down on them (whether in pity or contempt). People notice when you donate shit. They may or may not point it out, they may or may not still accept the donation, but you are shaming them. You are treating them as less than. If you know those cheap granola bars taste like cardboard, don’t hand them out to the homeless. If you know that set of sheets might as well be sandpaper, don’t donate them to a shelter. IF YOU HAVE ALREADY USED HALF A PALLET OF EYE SHADOW DO NOT DONATE IT TO A WOMEN’S SHELTER (sorry, it’s happened…more than once…that’s gross fam). If you know those toys will break after one use, do not donate them as Christmas gifts. If it’s trash, throw it in the trash – don’t donate it to a non-profit.

4. It’s not about you

This one can be difficult for us to catch (and then again, sometimes it is quite obviously stated). Make sure the giving is truly about the recipient. Not about the picture for your social media page (not saying you can’t post about it…but check yourself and your motives for posting what you post). Not about the tax right off. Not about feeling good about yourself and patting yourself on the back. Not about your hidden or not-so-hidden religious agenda (this one fires me up…if you’re giving comes with strings attached whether insisting on putting Bibles in every bag or proselytizing in the card you write or that recipients have to attend a Bible study or service or something to receive the items or that you want an invitation to come in and lead a religious gathering if you’re going to bring donations… STOP. IT.). I have heard plenty of churches and religious groups (and a pastor I once worked for) say that if the “project” was not likely to produce “results” (i.e. Church attendance or conversions or something of the like), they would not support it. That’s not okay. And if you consider yourself Christian, that is not the way of Jesus.

Please also do not demand gratitude or recognition in a particular way. It still shocks me sometimes how offended people get when they feel their donation was not adequately appreciated. It’s not for you to determine what that looks like. I’m not saying gratitude isn’t important. But sulking or pouting in response to your perceived lack of gratitude is seriously not okay. Additionally, it’s really important to consider what might be fueling the response you’re getting. If the recipient of your donation appears to be responding in an entitled manner or doesn’t appear very excited or struggles to look you in the eye…perhaps this is actually an opportunity to consider how your giving approach may have impacted them (or our larger approach to giving in this culture). Maybe your giving made the recipient feel small or insignificant or needy or like a “charity case.” Maybe you were paternalistic in what you said or how you interacted. Maybe your approach was disempowering. Maybe the exchange amplified your privilege compared to their oppression or marginalization. If the recipient is an organization, maybe they’re tired. Burned out. Frustrated by the strings you attach to your giving. Irritated that you didn’t ask before showing up with a load of items that aren’t actually needed.

This will take a lot of soul-searching and reflecting and listening to sort out. And leads us to the next suggestion.

5. Allow your giving to lead you to bigger questions

Many people find themselves drawn to a particular issue or cause when they choose to give – maybe it’s to those who are homeless or to children with terminal illnesses or to women who have experienced domestic violence or to those with physical disabilities. I would invite you into a deeper understanding of the roots of those issues and/or the needs created by those issues. I invite you to ask questions and to learn more about why your giving is needed/wanted. And I would invite you to move from individualistic ideas & explanations to an understanding of broader social & systemic issues that are the foundation for the challenges impacting the recipients of your giving.

Here’s what I mean. If you give to a domestic violence shelter, consider what is going on that those needs exist. What allows domestic violence to flourish in our society (and it does flourish)? How do our ideas about gender, for example, contribute to this? You might also ask yourself what is needed so that victims/survivors wouldn’t need to stay in shelter? This would lead you to consider various economic factors, including questions about affordable housing, affordable childcare, making a living wage, the gender pay gap, etc. You might also consider what it is about our society, our views on government (and who is responsible for caring for marginalized and oppressed communities), on wealth distribution that makes something as simple (and essential) as towels such a needed donation for a shelter and why resources are so limited.

Allow yourself to be stretched and to consider how you might play a part in getting to the root of social problems. For most of us, this will involve a disruption of your world view. It will mean asking difficult questions of yourself. It will mean you’ve likely perpetuated these issues (whether you intended to or not). It may mean coming to point where you realize you’ve “been doing it all wrong.” Lean into all of that. Keep going. It’s worth it. And it’s needed if we’re to create a better, more just world for all of us.

There are many, many more ways to give well. I may add an additional post, who knows. Feel free to share some of your giving approaches as well!

How Domestic Violence Is Influencing My Theology of Suffering

Most of us have a rather large aversion to suffering. Certainly to our own suffering. But also to truly seeing the suffering around us and in the world. We turn away. We avoid. We try to fix. We blame victims. We shrug our shoulders. We explain it away or explain why it’s necessary (for some kind of greater good). We use religious platitudes (“God works all things for the good…”). When Easter rolls around, we pause for half a breath on Friday and talk a bit about suffering (usually individual suffering…typically not things like systemic evil…), but always with the disclaimer that “Sunday’s coming!! Things are going to get better!! Just hang on!!”

It wasn’t until a few years ago that I began hearing a greater emphasis on suffering and on lament. And it was not in white evangelical circles that I heard these voices. It was almost exclusively leaders of color (some evangelical, some not) that brought this to my awareness. Leaders who pointed out systemic oppression and privilege. Soong-Chan Rah and Mark Charles are two voices that were particularly influential as I started considering new (to me) theological perspectives.

When we encounter the suffering of others, we have two choices: lean in or leave. Leaving means utilizing some type of avoidance, minimizing, denying, blaming, fixing (fixing is avoidant – it tends to be rooted in our own discomfort and is an attempt to make it all go away…quickly). Leaning in means bringing our whole selves into the space and listening. Seeing what is really happening. Believing. Sitting with the one(s) suffering. Holding space. Leaning in requires vulnerability.

My job requires daily leaning in. I am a counselor in a domestic violence shelter. My clients (primarily women) have encountered terrible abuse, generally by someone they love and who they thought loved them. Clients who are currently staying in the shelter are considered to be in “imminent danger.” Suffering and death are everpresent. I can’t tell you how many women have told me over the past year that “he almost killed me” and/or “he is going to kill me” and/or “if he finds me, he will kill me.” I can’t tell you how many more are in incredible danger, but may not recognize the risk. Or may not think there is a way out. Despair is a frequent visitor. I often wonder about certain women I have met along the way – whether they are safe, whether they are thriving, whether they are alive.

I never, EVER tell these women it’s going to be okay. That things are going to work out. Because sometimes it doesn’t get better. Sometimes, despite taking precautions and ample “safety planning” and getting a protective order and calling the police and leaving and going to a domestic violence shelter, abusers kill their (ex-)partners. And children. Sometimes, even when perpetrators don’t kill, they continue to inflict pain and suffering in a variety of ways on the victim for years. Often with little to no repercussions. Even when the victim has long sense left the relationship.

There is immense pain and suffering in the stories my clients tell. As much as I long to provide comfort and to fix it and to tell them the worst is over, I can’t. While we certainly take steps to address the impact of trauma in their lives, much of my work involves holding space and bearing witness to my client’s stories. To sit with them in their pain. To BELIEVE them – something so few people have chosen or choose to do when it comes to women’s experiences of domestic violence (not to mention sexual assault). To be present with them in this moment, not knowing what the next moment brings.

Suffering, death, and despair sound a lot more like Good Friday and Holy Saturday than Easter/Resurrection Sunday. Working with victims of domestic violence is a daily reminder of suffering in our world. It is a daily reminder of individual suffering as well as the suffering as a result of much larger systemic issues. Suffering as a result of patriarchy, toxic masculinity, misogyny. Suffering as a result of a flawed criminal justice system. Suffering that is amplified for domestic violence victims who are part of any number of marginalized groups in addition to being female (being a person of color, being LGBTQ+, being Muslim, being undocumented, being poor, being disabled, etc.). 

It is a daily reminder that people choose to inflict suffering on others. That people (including friends, family, and church members) choose not to support those who are suffering. That people and systems choose to look away. To blame victims and to tell them that if they had done things differently, none of this would have happened. 

Sunday doesn’t always come. Resurrection is not always where the story ends. Not when it comes to domestic violence. Not in this life anyway. The story sometimes ends in death and/or despair. Suffering is not always redemptive. I reject the notion that suffering is always God-ordained or somehow God’s will. I cannot look my clients in the eye as they tell me about the horrible abuse they have experienced and maintain that for some reason God wanted them to experience this. This kind of suffering is the result of choices made by other individuals and/or systems – by things the victim can’t possibly control. It is rooted in evil, not God.

Leaning in to a theology of suffering means not just looking to Jesus to fix it all and put a bow on it Easter Sunday. It means looking to Jesus when he was murdered by the state. Looking to Jesus when he was abused, abandoned, exposed, alone, Looking to Jesus when God was silent. It means sitting in the emptiness and despair of Holy Saturday. Wondering if there is any hope. Knowing you can’t go back to the certainty you thought you had or the way things were, yet not having any idea what is next. If there even is a future.

I want to have hope. As a therapist, my job includes “holding hope” at times when my clients cannot. I do the work that I do with the hope that in many cases, things will get better. I fight against oppressive systems and resist against patriarchy (among other things) because I hope for a different world. I hope for justice and redemption and resurrection.

And yet. 

Sometimes Sunday never comes.

Beyond Black Eyes & Bruises – Recognizing Domestic Violence

If you stood on a street corner and asked people to define domestic violence, responses would likely focus on visible physical injuries. Assaults. Emergency room visits. Battered women. An out-of-control, raging, drunk man.

And while these ideas may be a part of the picture, they are but a teeny tiny snapshot of domestic violence. Yet most of us, including many victims, don’t recognize the signs of abuse that are much more common. 

Domestic violence is a pattern of coercive control utilized by an individual (typically a man) to maintain power over an intimate partner (typically a woman). This pattern of power and control may include acts of sexual and/or physical violence, but typically less frequently than other strategies. 

If I could only use one handout for the rest of my counseling career, I would choose the power and control wheel. Hands down. It has been the single most useful sheet of paper I have reviewed with clients in any counseling setting in which I have worked. It has produced the most frequent “light bulb,” “ah-ha,” “oh wow,” “THIS is it” moments with clients. 

The traditional version of the wheel describes eight typical strategies utilized by domestic violence perpetrators: coercion & threats, intimidation, emotional abuse, isolation, minimizing/denying/blaming, using children, using male privilege, and economic abuse. Each of these spokes is connected to the central driving force of establishing and maintaining power and control over the victim. Sexual and/or physical violence may be used to reinforce that control. Not every strategy will be used in every situation. Some abusers will only utilize a few, some will use all of them, some will change their approach over time. They will employ whatever methods seem to be the most successful at maintaining control.


I could share story after story with you of examples for each part of the wheel. And while each victim’s experiences are unique, my clients also repeatedly express a sense of shock at just how well the power and control wheel describes the abuser in question. I have had many clients make exasperated statements along the lines of “oh wow, they’re all the same”or “do they take a class in this?!” I was sharing a power and control wheel with a client once because I was wondering if domestic violence was occurring and before I could finish she had grabbed a highlighter off my desk and started marking all of the things her boyfriend was doing. 

Many of my clients express feelings of relief as well as disbelief when they see a power and control wheel for the first time. They are relieved to begin realizing that they are not “crazy” and have not been imagining what has been happening. They are relieved to begin finding language that expresses their experiences. They are also often in disbelief at how many of their partners behaviors were/are signs of domestic violence. At how many behaviors constitute abuse. Again, we tend to focus on physical violence when hear the term domestic violence, often missing other abusive tactics that are occurring. 

Which is where we all come in. We must call domestic violence for what it is. It is, in fact, violence. Regardless of what (if any) acts of physical violence have occured. It is abuse. Controlling behaviors are not okay. They are not justifiable or excusable. They are signs that something is not right and has the potential to become increasingly physically violent and dangerous. The emotional toll on victims is also profound. Many women experience symptoms of PTSD as a result of domestic violence. I have had many clients tell me that healing from the emotional abuse is much more challenging than healing from the physical abuse.

We must also recognize that the responsibility for change lies solely with the perpetrator. It is not the responsibility of the victim to better herself, to fight for her marriage/her family, to “love him out of it/through it.” This is dangerous. When the community holds these types of beliefs, perpetrators have very little motivation to change. And victims often go without help. If they do find the courage and resources to leave, they quickly discover that leaving is always a process when it comes to domestic violence. Abusers do not simply relinquish control and move on. They will employ any number of strategies (from promising change to threats and everything in between) to regain power over the victim. This is why leaving is the most dangerous time for a domestic violence victim. This is the most likely time for an abuser to kill the victim (and often any children involved and himself), the ultimate act of exerting his power.

While difficult to measure, estimates are that 1 in 4 women will experience domestic violence in their lifetime. That is a HUGE number. So let’s become more aware of what it actually is. If you see some of these patterns in your own relationship, I encourage you to talk further with a trained domestic violence advocate – you can call (or chat with) a local or national hotline or contact your local provider. They can ask additional questions to help you better understand the level of risk you may be in, to discuss resources available to you, and to help you plan your next steps (whatever you want them to be).

We all need to learn to recognize these patterns. To BELIEVE victims when they express concerns (and to be PATIENT and supportive) and to validate what they are describing (abusers will try to convince victims that it is their fault, that they are exaggerating, that they are crazy, etc). To ask how we can help. To hold men accountable for their behaviors. To speak up. To name it. Let’s get to work. We all have a part to play in this.

Dealing with Privilege: It Starts with Listening

As a therapist, I am in the business of change. Generally speaking, people come to counseling because they want something to be different in their lives. As a social worker, I’m also challenged to consider what it means for particular groups, communities, and systems to change. Much of my mental capacity is spent considering the process of change.

Over the past several years I have become increasingly interested in the change process for individuals with some form of privilege, particularly white privilege and male privilege. How does a white person become aware of their privilege? What does it look like for a man to confront his male privilege? How does someone move from being unaware of their privilege (which is where most people generally start in regard to the privileges they hold) to becoming aware to doing something about it?


There are all types of opinions and approaches to this question – how it happens, what is involved, who is responsible, how not to do it, etc. There does appear to be at least one component that is essential: LISTENING.

Listening is key. Regardless of the specific steps, listening must be part of the process. Listening in a way that involves your mind and your emotions. Listening when it feels weird or uncomfortable or foreign. Listening when you want to resist and yell and cover your ears and justify yourself and ease your discomfort. Listening in a way that absorbs rather than simply preparing to respond.

This listening process could and should involve a variety of specific actions. It should PRIMARILY include listening to the oppressed group(s). There can be value to listening to others who share your privilege but have perhaps taken more steps toward change than you have, but if your listening does not lead you to the voices of marginalized groups, you’re doing it wrong. Period. You are still sitting quite comfortably in your privilege. Listening means seeing the humanity in people whose experiences are different from your own.

Using the examples of male privilege and white privilege, listening could include:

  • Reading books, articles, blogs by women and/or people of color
  • Watching films & documentaries on oppression, systemic injustices, the history lessons you never heard in school, etc.
  • Attending seminars, workshops, events organized by women and/or people of color (these could be geared toward those communities but open to men or white people OR events geared to the larger community on topics pertaining to those communities)
  • Being mentored by a woman and/or person of color
  • Thoughtful listening to women and/or people of color in your circle – your friends, co-workers, clients, patients, customers, etc.
  • Listening to the message(s) of larger events (rallys, protests, etc)
  • Following women and/or people of color on social media, especially those dedicated to raising awareness and advocating for social justice

Listening means you are not trolling (whether in real life or online). Listening means that you really want to hear what the other person has to say, even if you don’t get it. Even when it doesn’t feel good. Even when you’ve been conditioned to question what “they” are telling you. Part of any type of privilege is being socialized to think that whatever privileged group you are part of it is normative and preferable (even though this is may not be explicitly stated). This is part of what makes many of us resistant to facing our privilege – because it requires changing so much of how we have viewed ourselves and the world. Listening means realizing that we cannot simply lump together “all black people” or “all women” – it means seeking out a variety of voices from within those communities.

Let me share some personal examples of what listening has looked like for me in terms of my white privilege. 

Listening has involved tuning into the stories shared with me by therapy clients of color about their experiences with the system (including the legal system, the child welfare system, the mental health system). Realizing that their experiences were so different from my own and from how I was raised to view the system (e.g. as inherently good and functional). This listening occurred in informal conversations, in observations of some of those interactions, in supervision, and in my reading. Listening meant believing my clients and learning how to create a safe space in the therapy room for them to process those experiences if they choose to do so.

Listening has involved a LOT of reading – recognizing that almost all of the books (of any kind) I used to read were written by white people (and often by men). Asking myself hard questions about why that is. Making intentional choices in the books I now seek out. This year I’ve chosen to only read female authors, primarily women of color.

Listening has meant following an incredible variety of voices on twitter. I really began to do so following the murder of Mike Brown in Ferguson, MO. This listening, in turn, made me aware of some sources I may not want to listen to less…like much of the mainstream media.

Listening has meant showing up to community events and seminars that are open to me as a white person but not designed for me and not centered on white people. It means showing up and being one of the few white people in the room (something most of us white people just don’t experience often). It means showing up and shutting up – adopting a learning stance and not inserting myself into the group discussion to try and assuage my white guilt in some way (there is almost always a fellow white person in the room doing this…don’t be that white person…).


Listening also means listening to myself. Being honest and aware of my struggles addressing my privilege, of my white guilt, of my discomfort when I enter spaces in which my whiteness stands out, of my implicit and explicit biases, of my fear, of my avoidance. 

Each person’s listening journey has a unique starting point. If pursued, additional forms of listening will be added. It may start with a particularly impactful film followed by reading followed by a conversation with a co-worker. Perhaps it starts with hearing the story of a peer or neighbor followed by attending a rally followed by diversifying your sources of information on social media. Maybe it starts with an especially troubling news story followed by the responses of some of your clients followed by attending a community event. 

Whatever it is for you, lean in and listen. 

Listen more. 

Listen more deeply. 

Listen more deeply to those who do not share your privilege. 

Listen to voices of the past and the present. 

It is the only way we will be able to engage in creating any type of sustainable change, in dismantling oppressive structures and systems, in resisting paternalistic answers that do more harm than good.

Self-Care Is (Essential to) Resistance

#SelfcareSunday Series (Post 2)

In the overlapping worlds of social justice, activism, and social work, self-care can often seem like an unattainable goal. There is always more to be done, more injustice to fight, more needs to try to meet. It can feel like there is/are never enough time, resources, and people involved. Non-profit organizations are often notoriously bad at expecting long (and often inconvenient) hours & work weeks from their employees, providing too little compensation & support, and placing generally unrealistic expectations on their staff (high caseloads, wearing too man hats, etc). Granted, many of these issues are a result of larger societal and systemic issues that contribute to a tremendous lack of funding which then impacts these other areas within individual organizations…but that is another topic for another day… The point is that there are many challenges to doing this work in a sustainable way.

Nevertheless, I would argue that self-care is both essential to and an aspect of resistance.


Any advocate, activist, or social worker will tell you that burnout is a common risk when fighting oppression and injustice in the world (regardless of the particular role and way one is doing so). It is difficult to stay engaged for the long haul. People get tired, overwhelmed, and often experience direct or vicarious trauma. Depression, anxiety, and health problems can often develop and/or increase, especially when adequate self-care is not in place. When burnout happens, people typically either walk away from the work or become increasingly counterproductive in the ways they engage in the work (and it’s rather unpleasant to work alongside someone who is dealing with burnout and not addressing it).

In order to stay involved in this work, self-care is essential. It cannot be optional. None of us are super heroes. We must nurture the emotional, physical, spiritual, social aspects of ourselves on a regular basis. Self-care does not mean opting out. Self-care is taking breaks when needed. Tending to one’s personal well-being on a regular basis as part of the rhythms of one’s day, week, month, and year(s). It is burnout prevention.

Self-care is not selfish.

Self-care is survival.

Self-care is resistance.

Self-care is a reminder that resistance is a communal, not an individual struggle. It reminds us that we cannot and should not try to take on more than we can carry. It reminds us that we are not anyone’s savior (and that we risk all sorts of paternalism if we operate otherwise). It reminds us that we need each other and that it is okay to take a break because the community, the people, will persist. Self-care stands in direct oposition to the hyper-individualism that permeates much of the western world. And this hyper-individualism perpetuates oppressive systems because it denies their very existence (placing responsibility for an individual’s struggles solely on the individual rather than considering the impact larger systems have on those struggles).

Self-care is also resistance to empire. It is resistance to a world that often defines our value by what we produce, what we do, what outcomes we achieve. Self-care insists each and every one of us have inherent worth as human beings. It is subversive. Self-care creates space to engage in things empire generally cares little for – nature and a connection to the land, preventative health practices, spirituality, life-giving relationships, art.

For more on self-care as it relates to resistance, check out these articles:

**This is the second post in a series on self-care. You can read the first post (self-care in real life) here. Future posts will include the *privilege of self-care and self-care as a spiritual practice.***

Self-Care in Real Life: 3 Miles and the Good Bacon

#SelfcareSundays Series (Post 1)

Self-care. This term has become rather common place and most people have some idea of the concept of self-care. In my world as a therapist, it can definitely be of a buzz word. Yet if we’re honest, most of us (therapists included) are just not very good at it.
I’m so there. Rather than a consistent, steady practice in my life it feels more like a tug-o-war…a push and pull between self-care and striving/doing/achieving. I’m a doer. An (over-) achiever. A work-before-play, type A, oldest child, perfectionist. Self-care can feel frivolous, like a luxury, unattainable, unrealistic, lazy, or avoidant.

Yet I’ve also grown increasingly fond of self-care. Over the years it has become something I treasure. Something I value. Something I choose to see as none of those things listed above, but as necessary. It is essential to my own well-being. To my engagement in the work of a social worker and therapist. I realized during grad school that I would get sick quite consistently once a semester – at whatever point in the semester that my stress-level and work-load reached a peak and self-care was on the back burner, my body would eventually take matters into its own hands and “force” me to take a break. My general level of anxiety has a strong correlation with my engagement in self-care (or lack thereof).

Here’s the thing about self-care in real life: It’s a fluid, evolving practice. There is no one-size-fits-all when it comes to caring for ourselves. There may be some patterns and principles we can identify, but what works for me may not work for you and what works today may not work next year. A key to regularly engaging in the nurturing of our whole selves is to set realistic expectations. As much as I’d like to think I would start every day with yoga, run 5 times a week, get a weekly massage, have a wonderful date night each Friday, only eat foods that make me feel good about myself and the planet (and never overindulge), and would leave work on time and at the same time every day…it’s not my reality. And that’s okay.

Self-care is about identifying the things that are good and nurturing and healthy for various aspects of our lives and taking intentional steps to engage in at least some of those things on a regular basis. It is about recognizing our current reality and season of life and operating within that reality. It involves accepting things we cannot change about our circumstances AND being intentional about the things we can control. It both about saying no AND saying yes. 

You can find a LOT of ideas on self-care in the online world and the self-help section of the bookstore (probably because it is something most of us are lacking yet crave). Self-care ideas, plans, quotes; self-care based on your profession; self-care seminars, webinars, and workshops. All of these can be helpful, but it is equally important to approach self-care with curiosity and creativity…and to resist making it another task to check off the list (been there, done that). One tool I find helpful is this self-care wheel which allows you to consider what self-care might look like for various aspects of your life. It also allows you to re-assess (and fill out a new wheel) as life changes. You can find a printable version as well as ideas for each spoke here.


My self-care today meant running 3 miles and eating the good bacon (bacon is DEFINITELY part of my self-care plan). Other important self-care practices in my life at the moment include at least one day free of social media each week, drinking lots of water, giving myself enough time to eat breakfast at home each morning, enjoying good coffee, spending time outside, and watching the Office when I don’t have much mental energy left after a long work day. This month I’m recommitting to getting up & out of bed at a consistent time each day, developing a ritual to connect with my husband each week (in light of schedules that currently do not often match up), setting boundaries at work, and running more frequently. And giving myself grace when the self-care plan does not, in fact, go as planned…


**This is the first post in a series on self-care. Future posts will include self-care as resistance, the *privilege of self-care, and self-care as a spiritual practice. Please comment below if there are other topics you would like to see covered!***

Gaslighting, Domestic Violence, and Trump

One word that is often used in domestic violence circles is the term “gaslighting.” It refers to a commonly used emotional abuse strategy with the aim of making the victim question her own perception, experience, judgement, sanity (see definitions here and here). During my counseling sessions with domestic violence victims, many will tell me that they feel or felt “crazy” in response to the way the abuser has treated them (which has almost always included gaslighting). 

Here are just a few forms gaslighting might take in an abusive relationship:

  • Telling the victim that a recent verbal or physical assault simply did not happen (“you’re remembering that wrong” or “I never said/did that” or “that’s not what happened”).
  • Hiding something important to the victim (like keys or medication), allowing her to tear the house apart looking for it, then putting it back in its original place (without telling her) and insisting it was there all along.
  • Repeatedly telling the victim something about herself that is not true until she eventually begins to question herself or believe the lie (convincing her that she has a mental health disorder, that she doesn’t do anything right or doesn’t do certain things right, etc).
  • Convincing the victim that the abuse is her fault (“I wouldn’t have to treat you this way/hit you if you wouldn’t do/say ________”) and/or that no one else would ever want to be with her
  • Constantly changing the “rules” (one day insisting that clothing be folded and put up one way, then insisting the opposite the following day…and denying whatever was said before…and lashing out each time it is done “wrong”).
  • Manipulating a known concern or struggle (when a victim with a mood disorder becomes upset about the abuser’s behavior, convincing her that she is having a mental health “episode” or is overreacting because of her disorder).

Most of us would reject this type of thing the first time it happens. But over time (especially when coupled with the deliberate attempts to isolate victims that are also key to domestic violence) when you hear something often enough, you start to wonder. You start to question yourself. You become preoccupied trying to figure it all out. Trying to do things “right” and to keep the peace and to prove yourself. And the abuser’s power increases.


Understanding how gaslighting works and how abusers use it may help us to better walk with survivors as they begin to unravel the impact of gaslighting in their lives and the toll it has taken on their mental & emotional well-being. It is truly a form of torture. And is often a very effective strategy for preventing domestic violence victims from trying to leave the relationship.

But here’s the other thing. Gaslighting is not limited to individual relationships. Gaslighting is currently on full display in the era of Trump (there are a disturbing number of parallels between the strategies domestic violence perpetrators use and Trump’s approach to the presidency…). Gaslighting in this context includes:

  • “Alternative facts” such as insisting that the crowds at the inauguration were MUCH larger than they actually were (when the opposite is so blatantly obvious)
  • Claiming to have said or not said things that are well-documented as having been said or not said (or tweeted…)
  • Using an attack ON Muslims as supportive evidence for previously implemented anti-Muslim policies
  • Accusing members of the media as being disrespectful (among other things) when they ask questions about anything other than what he wants to talk about or when any type of concerns are voiced about his policies or statements
  • Saying it’s “reverse racism” when people of color bring up racism, protest racism, are angry about racism

And doing all of this with a straight face and becoming angry at anyone who dares to question. Gaslighting is all about continuously pushing the limits of what the abusive person (or system) can get away with. It’s what often makes individual  domestic violence victims feel they are constantly walking on eggshells. 

We have to be alert and vigilant about recognizing, confronting, and resisting gaslighting at the national level. Otherwise, it will continue to confuse, to turn us against each other, to blind us from what is really happening. That’s the whole point. The “leader” of this country is trying to get us to question everyone and everything except him. And is pairing that with all types of intimidation directed at anyone that might oppose him.

One of the greatest antidotes to gaslighting is not being isolated. For an individual victim, having access to relationships with supportive people who can challenge the lies and manipulation can help that victim to remain a sense of sanity and to increase their sense of empowerment. 

Nationally, this means a few things. It means diversifying our sources of information and news (and considering who is funding our “news” providers). It means having genuine relationships with a diverse group of people and making sure that your circle is not limited to people who look, think, act, believe, vote just like you. It means having a support network that is also willing to speak to and against oppression…being part of some type of community fighting for justice. It means being willing to engage in difficult and challenging questions & conversations. It means studying history and using critical thinking skills as we do so…resisting many of the past and present narratives about American Exceptionalism when our collective past and present behaviors have been far from exceptional (especially for those of us with privilege – male privilege, white privilege, economic privilege, etc).

Another strategy for resisting the impact of gaslighting is to consider behaviors much more than words. I frequently encourage my counseling clients to give more weight to the abuser’s behaviors (and behavioral patterns) than to his words. Actions really do speak louder than words and this is especially true when it comes to gaslighting. Whether we’re talking about Trump or domestic violence perpetrator, it’s what they do and the impact of those actions that really matter – not their promises, public statements, alleged motivations, or alternative facts.

For more information about what gaslighting looks like, check out this great Psychology Today article.

What other examples of gaslighting are you seeing on the national level & how else might we resist? Share in the comments!

A Word to My White Sisters

I have been working on getting my new blog off the ground for 6-12 months now and in the last week alone, I have mentally written & re-written numerous posts following each new “development” under the new president. And while this post and even the blog itself may not be as “ready” and “polished” as I may have hoped, here we go… 

My dear white sisters, this first post is dedicated to you. To us. I started writing it in my head a week ago after attending my local sister march of the larger Women’s March on Washington. I didn’t fully decide until late in the week whether I even wanted to attend. As an introvert whose job is to walk alongside victims of domestic violence experiencing immense trauma & safety concerns, a large social gathering is not exactly my idea of self-care. I also had a lot of questions and concerns about whether the space would truly be intersectional or would by-and-large be more of a white feminist space.

My experience was mixed. On the one hand, I had a visceral emotional response to standing and marching with thousands of sisters gathered together in that space. I felt visible as a woman, something that is not a given in my day-to-day experiences as a woman. And there is something communal about such an experience, despite knowing that I likely disagreed with other marchers on MANY issues. One of those overarching issues being the need for intersectionality. While efforts to make the Women’s March and sister marches intersectional were certainly apparent, there is a lot of work to be done to continue moving in that direction. This became especially clear in the hours and days following the march as white women pushed back on critiques expressed by women of color.

There is SO MUCH to say about this, but here is where I want to start:

White sisters, it is beyond time for us to start listening to and following the leadership of our non-white sisters.

To hear, reflect on, be challenged by, and feel uncomfortable about their critiques and frustrations and pain and anger. 

NONE of this minimizes our experiences of gender-based oppression. But as white women, we stand with one foot in oppression (as women) and one foot in privilege (as white women). I invite us to use our own experiences of gender-based oppression to cultivate a deep empathy for those who are oppressed due to the color of their skin (and every other type of oppression we may not experience due to our respective privilege). We HAVE to stop dismissing and talking over and minimizing and ignoring the very real experiences of our sisters of color. And we have to reckon with our collective participation (as white women) in their oppression – both historically and recently (regardless of how you voted individually, we collectively supported Trump…who has already followed through on an overwhelming number of horribly oppressive and unjust campaign promises…that will collectively have a greater negative impact on our sisters of color than on us).

And for the love, stop expecting a cookie and a pat on the back from our sisters of color when we do show up or speak up. They don’t owe us sh*t. This doesn’t mean stop showing up. But it does mean to start listening and learning and following. It means holding each other (as white women) accountable. It means standing up to injustice even when it does not directly impact us. It means taking risks and getting out of our comfort zones.

I don’t know where you are starting from today, but please don’t stay there. Please act. Please figure out what you need to do next. I will try to share some ideas soon and I am sure there are plenty of other posts and articles currently circulating on the topic. We are stronger together, but only when we make sure the voices of those most marginalized are the ones that are given the most attention and care (if you consider yourself a Christian, this is definitely modeled by Jesus). This means it’s time for us white women to stop re-centering the conversation on ourselves and to move to the outer rings of the circle and to adopt a posture of listening. Only then can our collective voices be heard. So let’s get to it.