WTF? Is this pity-party season?

I highly recommend you only read this if you’re ready to stop feeling sorry for yourself and reconnect with the warrior that’s always inside your soul.

I get criticised for my pain tolerance all the time.

Shit, I even criticise myself.

For staying on my bike long after I hurt like a mofo.

For picking up the weights I know will make me scream and still, pushing through to the very last rep.

For not turning around and going home when I’m exhausted, limping, at times even crying, just because the distance I promised myself to conquer today is not yet complete.

As much as you might think I’m insane,

I choose insanity above self-pity every single day.

Yes, I get down on myself too.

Yes, shit hits the fan in my life too.

Yes, there’s days when I just don’t know how the fuck I’m going to keep pushing on.

I’m human – inhuman – human.

Every time I get to that point I remember my choices.

I can choose to stay down there.

I can choose to completely buy into the drama.

I can choose to feel like shit for god knows how long.

I’ve chosen that before.

Which is why I know how dangerous this slippery slide is.

When I hit the lows I did it with such force that my heart ripped open.

I oozed pain onto the pavement and life went dark.

Pitch black.

It was during this time that I received everything that you’re constantly told you need to make you feel better.

Sympathy.

Understanding.

Words of encouragement.

People telling me it’s okay, I’ll be okay, they’re here for me.

BULLSHIT!

I didn’t need someone to wrap me in cottonwool and treat me with kit-gloves.

I didn’t need anyone to tolerate my pathetic behaviour.

I sure as fuck didn’t need the drugs the doctor prescribed.

All these remedies simply kept me stuck.

Going deeper down the rabbit hole.

Drawing my next breath became torturous.

All I wanted was to close my eyes and sink into the tempestuous arms of darkness.

Oh how sweet her call – the promises she made.

No more pain.

No more existence.

No more.

It was a close call.

It would have been so easy to swallow the pills in my hand – and you and I would never have connected.

But there was another option available to me.

I could choose to fight.

For my motherloving LIFE.

It wasn’t easy my friend.

When you’re the shit people scrape off their shoes, you don’t just bounce back.

First step for me was to get MAD.

I got FURIOUS.

I took all of that raw emotion to the bag and I started hitting that bitch until my arms felt like they were falling off.

I kicked until my legs hurt so much I couldn’t sit down to pee the next day.

And I kept going back.

Day after day.

Until one day there was a shift.

I wasn’t angry.

Instead my core had strengthened.

I stood a little taller,

My focus clear.

I started hitting THROUGH the target.

Go further.

Click.

Warrior One.

Pitiful Little Bitch Zero.

I learned so much from this chapter in my book.

I learned that pity-parties, although a natural part of life, needs a lid.

When I give myself permission to go ‘there’, I create a container of time and when it’s done, it’s done!

This allows me to break down, break through, and rise in super fast time.

I learned that I have zero fucking tolerance for sympathy.

When shit hits the fan, I pull into myself.

The only person I trust is my coach.

My coach who never EVER tries to save me.

He kicks me over the edge expecting me to fly.

Yes, hardcore works for me.

I know it’s not for everyone – you get to know yourself and what works for you.

I learned that focusing on a target keeps me in the zone.

Without goals that light my soul on fire the temptation of distraction becomes annoyingly powerful.

Without goals that keep me looking forward my ego gets bored and she starts creating shenanigans in my life creating sharp contrasts often resulting in a bite out of my ass.

I learned that the masses love victims.

Look around you.

One of the reasons so many people choose to be miserable is because of all the attention they receive.

Every victim creates the stage for another to play the hero.

When someone gets to feel like a hero they give you TLC and you smile.

Thinking you’re happy.

You’re not happy – you’re fucking codependent!

There’s no true joy in codependency.

And before you tell me that you have to stay in your unhappy circumstances because you love your partner too much to leave, or you love your kids too much to risk the change, or there’s too may people depending on you, or you’ve been friends since you were five, or whomever you’re using as a shield from admitting that you’re just shit scared, how loving is it to be around people with your toxic energy knowing that it seeps into their minds and impacts them?

How dare we put our misery on the shoulders of others???

Full disclosure – this was ME!!!!

Inconsiderate, selfish motherfucker.

I’m deeply appreciative of the mirror that was held up for me so that I could finally see my truth.

I say mine – it’s not necessarily yours.

My truth is that I am fully responsible for my happiness.

My truth is that I create EVERYTHING in my experience.

My truth is that I have the responsibility to do the work it takes for me to show up as my best version self for where I’m at and with what I have at the time.

My truth is that I’m NOT responsible for how others choose to experience me.

My truth is that I’m NOT responsible for the happiness of others.

When you connect with this flavour of truth you don’t really have much tolerance for your pity-parties.

And honestly Darling, they’re so 1900’s.

I don’t see your drama.

I don’t buy into your stories.

You want to start comparing scars?

Bring it Baby.

What I see when I look at you is a MAGICIAN.

I see a creator with zero limitations.

I see someone who might have created epic amounts of chaos and pain in their lives which means they have the ability to create the same and greater levels of joy.

So how about you dry those tears, blow your nose and lift that pretty little chin of yours?

How about you stop looking for sympathy and start turning things around for yourself?

How about you get a little mad?

If that means using this piece as a trigger to get upset, go for it!

I would much rather have you get angry and actually DO SOMETHING than sit there in the corner stuffing your face with food, alcohol, cigarettes, happy pills.

Existence is NOT living.

Existence is NOT thriving.

Existence IS optional.

Only death is inevitable.

Thriving is the choice of the brave.

I love you too much to feel sorry for you,

Anel

“Getting my bitch back!

My work session with Anel was the eye opener I needed to help me see where I need to build in order to push to the next level. The clear no-nonsense talk was and is exactly what I need to see myself more clearly and to break out of those of my patterns that are holding me back. I left the session with more clarity, clear goals, increased confidence and some tangible action points. Anel’s approach is honest, clear and to the point. I loved the naked truths and the bold look at even sensitive situations making these very tangible and highly actionable.”

Dorte Ertboll Loken

I’m often the only person in my client’s world not there to please them. I won’t sprinkle it with candy to make it sweet. I won’t let your fears keep you in the corner. I won’t believe your ‘stories’ regardless of how convinced you are of their truth. And I won’t buy into your bullshit. I’ll tell you how it is. I’ll say what no one else in your world is bold enough to say. And I’ll do that from an authentic, vulnerable and loving place.

When you’re ready we will talk about forming a potential partnership.

And your life WILL become legendary.

Contact me for a powerful conversation.