Jami Carder Coaching

I turned 53 today.

I recently heard someone say something along the lines of, “we all have an invisible timer above our heads, and no one knows what it’s set to.” That resonated with me. How much time do I have left? 20 years? 20 hours? 20 minutes?

All I know is that there’s not enough left, no matter what my timer is set for.

I’ve spent the better part of the last decade taking a very deep dive into self-improvement. My mission was to change unhealthy and unsatisfying relationship patterns in my life, and I think I’ve done a pretty good job doing so. Of course, the work is never done, but that’s kind of the point. We should be trying to grow right up until our last breath.

I was recently chatting with a friend about personal growth. During our conversation about how our childhood experiences and the behavior of our parents shapes our own behavior in adult relationships, and how our goal is to reshape that behavior, I began to ask her, “what do you want your life to look like?” But I stopped, mid-sentence. Because it occurred to me that defining the details of what we want our life to look like, such as finding a partner, owning a home, having a certain career, living in a certain area…all of that could cause us to miss out on opportunities that don’t look like our defined goals. Or it’s possible that despite obtaining those goals, we still might not feel satisfied. So, I changed my question.

“What do you want your life to FEEL like?”

Reframing the question changes everything. How often are we asked about how we want to feel, when defining goals?

Here’s the thing: very few of us are ever taught the difference between what a regulated or dysregulated nervous system feels like. Hell, most of us don’t even know what that term means. I know I hadn’t heard of it until I did my deep dive into this personal work.

Did you know that when you feel instant chemistry with someone, that’s usually not chemistry at all? More often than not, it’s anxiety. It’s familiarity. It’s a dysregulated nervous system. Because for those of us who grew up in homes in which love and/or anger was inconsistent from those who loved us, or who grew up in homes where love was mixed with abuse or chaos, we are naturally attracted to those who give off that similar energy. When you grow up being taught that love is accompanied by fear or abandonment or indifference or that love needs to be earned, then that’s exactly what love feels like as an adult. And when you find yourself in yet another unsatisfying, anxiety-inducing relationship that is the complete opposite of calm, you start imagining what you wish your life looked like.

I’m 53 years old, and it took me until just last year to figure out how to date using my nervous system. I stopped focusing on what I wanted things to look like and started prioritizing what I wanted to feel like. I wanted my nervous system to feel regulated with a partner. Early chemistry became a red flag as I began interviewing potential dates. I wouldn’t even consider sharing my time with someone until I knew if they checked the boxes of my nervous system dealbreakers or not: how did they approach conflict in relationships? What did they do for self-care? How did they demonstrate accountability with previous partners?

I asked questions about the things that had previously dysregulated my nervous system. How did I figure out what those things were? Well, it was pretty simple. I asked myself my own set of questions about my past relationships. What made me feel frustrated? What did I find myself always trying to change about my partners? Which circumstances led me to feel undervalued? What did I find myself trying to control in others?

We can point our fingers at our partners all day long, but growth will not happen until we point it at ourselves and admit to the role we play in our own heartache.

It wasn’t just dating that this applied to. It was any aspect in my life that led to feeling anxiety or the need to control.

Once I started focusing more on what would lead me to feeling calm, finding the right partner wasn’t even a priority any longer. Feeling content and satisfied was the priority, regardless of the details.

And I got there.

And wouldn’t you know it, once I got there…so did love.

So, tell me, for whatever amount of time you have left…what do you want your life to feel like?

Father’s Day is tricky for the estranged child.

I never know what I’m going to feel on this holiday. Sadness? Anger? Grief? Pain? Regret? Unlovableness? Nothing?

I’ve felt all of those emotions, and more that are challenging to label, for the past 7 years on this weekend. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter if it’s Father’s Day or not. The feelings come when they come, and there’s not much I can do about them.

In the beginning, I felt ALL of them. Father’s Day was a massive reminder of what I’d lost, how I’d been treated, the hopes and plans that had been eliminated from my pleading heart. It was excruciatingly painful and there were some days I wasn’t sure I’d survive the loss.

I felt jealous seeing all of my friends post photos of their dads, praising them for being such amazing presences in their lives. It didn’t feel fair.

But time passed, and I began to heal. I worked on rewriting the inner-narrative that told me I was unlovable due to others not being capable of loving me properly.

This work allowed me to let go of the fantasies I’d created about him. It allowed me to let go of my anger and frustration. It allowed me to let go of the need to establish connection, get him to come back to me or right the story that was circulating about me to justify the dysfunction in my family.

This work allowed me to let go of the shame that was never mine to carry.

By letting go of all those things, I made room for joy. My perspective shifted, and I discovered I was lovable as hell…and I didn’t need anyone to love me to feel that way.

My life is amazing, despite what’s happened. I ride the waves of grief when they come, and I let them roll away without clinging.

Today, I celebrated Father’s Day at the beach. I soaked up the sun, enjoyed the company of friends (and my pup!) and connected with nature. I loved seeing my friend’s beautiful posts about their dads. And I remembered the good times I had with my dad, back in the day, because that’s what I chose to do, even though I felt a little sad. I’m learning I can still love him without losing myself in the messiness of what’s happened.

I loved myself today🩵

There’s a peaceful beauty in sadness when you learn to not carry it with you.

There’s so much in our lives we can’t control. All we can control is what we choose to carry with us and how we choose to respond to those uncontrollable things.

If you are estranged from a loved one, I hope you are able to choose joy, even amidst the sadness💕

Jami Carder coaching Registered Nurse, author, essay writer, nursing advocacy, meditation teacher, trauma coaching

I’m not great at letting go…but I’m getting better.

My childhood attachment trauma set the stage for a life spent clinging to relationships like life rafts.

It didn’t matter if I was being treated poorly…I made excuses.

It didn’t matter if they didn’t love themselves…I loved them harder.

It didn’t matter if they left me…I chased.

It didn’t matter if it was toxic…I stayed.

For me, anything was better than losing love.

I’ve come a long way since then. I can end relationships on my own now. This is because I’ve healed a lot of the wounds that caused me to abandon myself.

But not all of them.

Sometimes, it can take me a few attempts at ending something before it sticks.

Or, it might stick, but it takes longer than I want it to for me to let go.

Breaking life-long patterns is hard. And it’s definitely not like flipping a switch for most of us.

So, if you’ve worked your tail off at being a cycle-breaker, cut yourself some slack if you find yourself slipping back into the old patterns. You’re still breaking cycles, simply by being aware that these patterns exist. Neuroplastcity (changing our brain’s thought patterns) takes repetition. Each go-around, you’ll recognize it sooner, recover sooner, and eventually, you might not do it at all.

Walking away from someone you love is one of the strongest things you can do.

You’ll grieve. You might reach out to them. Your heart will ache so badly that you might try to work it out. You might ruminate or maybe you’ll shut down.

Whatever you find yourself doing, it’s Ok. Just keep going.

I’m not great at letting go, but I’m getting better. The discomfort of losing someone else’s love is way better than losing my own.

I’m a cycle-breaker🦋

**And if all else fails, get a puppy…you’ll be too tired and busy for anything else. Trust me💕

Jami Carder, LLC Registered Nurse, author, essay writer, nursing advocacy, meditation teacher, trauma coaching