I also have another set of headlights. They are commonly known as the nipples and areolas. They were the pathway for milk when we I had my babies and an erotic zone. These headlights of mine are very near and dear to me, I have had them since birth.

Recently I have had bi-lateral mastectomies with reconstruction surgery, not because of a cancer diagnosis but because of my strong family history, (nine women in my mother’s family) and my positive BRAC2 gene mutation. I chose this path after many years of surveillance. The decision to have this surgery was filled with emotional upheaval, logical thinking and much support from my husband and family. It was another pre-emptive strike in my journey toward living a long and healthy life.

When having a mastectomy, the nipple and areola are removed and it is commonly replaced with skin that now covers that area. Bye bye headlights. There is a nipple-sparing procedure it is fairly new. Not an option for me. My mother, and my sister’s cancer started in the nipple. Not taking any chances.

So now the question is what do to about my “headlights”? I can have look-a-like tattooed nipples and areolas or temporary rub off tattoos, creating an illusion of “headlights”. I could purchase removable nipples (I kid you not). I guess that would kind of be like replacing the bulbs in the headlights of my car. I could build new ones with nipple reconstruction. That equates to total headlight replacement. Something my daughter did with her car to make it look real cool. Last but not least, do nothing and just have skin there and forgo any type of “headlights”. Does that mean I can’t go out in the dark anymore? The good news is that any type of “headlight” decision is done at the end of reconstruction. I have some time to figure out what to do.

I have been rolling the “headlight” decision around in my mind. How would I feel looking down at my new reconstructed breasts and not seeing a reconstructed nipple and areola or an illusion of them? Would I be ok with it? I think so. Would my husband be fine with it? He said he could care less.

Well, I don’t have ovaries anymore, I am in the middle of ‘reconstructing” new breasts. My whole image of myself as a woman has personally changed for me. I think for the better. So, I got to thinking that there are so many advantages to not having real nipples and even the fake ones too. Yes, I have lost the sexual stimulation but that is not really going to come back even with reconstructed “headlights”. Yes, it looks a bit weird to just have skin there, but I am kind of getting used to it.

So, here are just some of my thoughts about the benefits of “turning off my headlights”.

Pointless: Well the obvious advantage is never having to deal with erect nipples. This phenomenon is a huge cause of embarrassment. I would be pointless. Many of us like to have points or to give points, Being pointless, in this case would be a worthwhile state, it would be like having a permanent off switch. My opinion.

Burn those bras: Another benefit would be going braless. The bra has always been a huge source of frustration that includes shopping and wearing them. Well, with no “headlights” real or reconstructed I wouldn’t have to worry about erect nipples. Therefore going braless would be easy, comfortable and actually delightful. That of course helps with new perky breasts, which I have made sure the plastic surgeon is fully aware of.

Chafing: The rubbing and chaffing of nipples would be gone. A very irritating experience especially when wearing clothes that causes this.

Pain-Free: It can be quite painful when nipples experience extreme cold. Having no nipples then creates a pain-free environment for me. This is especially helpful during pool season, since the water can be quite cold in our pool causing much discomfort when I jump in.

As you can see I have some very compelling reasons to not replace my “headlights”. So at this point I am considering permanent 3D nipple tattooing. To be quite honest they I have seen them and they sure do look real. My husband even suggested that it be a birthday gift from him. How many men can answer the question, what did you give your wife for their birthday and answer nipple tattoos. Just the look on people faces would be a riot.

I have accepted the fact that my “headlights” have been removed. Deciding what to do about their replacement has been easier than deciding to replace “my girls” (breasts). I am really ok with not having to deal with them being “turned on” or “turned off” anymore. I still have time to decide about the tattooing and can just go for the new natural look until I do. In any case I have embraced the new me on the outside,  and have embraced the new me on the inside too, headlights and all.

You see these “girls” are not my daughters, these girls are my breasts. Saying good bye to my “girls” is saying good bye to a very huge part of my self and not just because they are connected to me. It is actually my choice to detach from them. My strong family history, my BRAC gene and many other changes have contributed to choosing this pathway, a path that has been interesting to say the least.

One of my clients is experiencing the same event. Last night while coaching her, she discovered that she needed to say good bye to her “girls”. She is going through the grief of losing her two “girls”  that she has been attached to for many years. When she says good bye to human friends she usually communicates heartfelt thoughts and feelings as well as write a letter. She decided to do the same with her “girls”. I thought this was a beautiful way to honor her relationship with them, so I decided to do the same.

So here we go.

My “girls” started out with a constant plea for them to arrive, you see I developed late. It seemed that every girl around me had “girls” way before me. Many a night I would plead and bargain for them to make an appearance. I wanted to discard my undershirts and wear the pretty bras with the pink or blue bow. Finally the day came and  my mom took me to Deb-N-Air, a local children’s clothing store to buy bras. I was thrilled.

My relationship with my “girls” was still very rough. Although I was developing, it wasn’t fast enough.To help them along I stuffed tissues into my bra. I distinctly remember the tissues falling out while changing for gym class. I was seriously embarrassed. Who was I fooling?

The “girls” had minds of their own. I wanted them to be bigger. They decided they had enough after being an “A” cup. I was very unhappy, they were quite content. I was constantly comparing my “girls” to other “girls”. Finally, after many years I became comfortable with them and myself.

My “girls” grew when I had my children. I finally got my wish for bigger “girls”. Of course it didn’t last, afterward they reverted with a lot less lift. So much for bigger “girls”.

The “girls” have been through training bras, padded bras, underwire bras, strapless bras, bras that make you lift and separate, bathing suit tops, tube tops, tank tops and every shirt and dress imaginable. They have been through emotional distress, boyfriends, husbands, two babies, self exams, doctor exams, biopsy, mammograms, ultrasounds and CAT scans.

My “girls” and I have been through many things over the years, some good, some bad. I have changed and they have too. This is why I decided that my relationship with them needed to change. They are very attached to me as I to them. So I am saying good bye and honoring them to let them know that I am acknowledging them for sticking with me, for being constant friends and that I will miss them.

Soon, I will begin a relationship with my new “girls”. If my old “girls” only new what the new “girls” will look like they would be pink with envy, so I won’t tell them. My new “girls” will transition me into the next phase of my life, a life that is healthier and worry-free. My new “girls” will take the place of my old “girls”, not just to replace them but to honor them. They will honor them for a job well done. So, with sadness, a little bit of fear, and a whole lot of love I say good by “girls”. Thank you for the many years and now I give myself and you, permission to be retired.

Having to squeeze into a pair of jeans is just not fun. I could buy a bigger pair, or I could lose the 10 pounds. I just cannot bring myself to purchasing a size up, so I choose to lose the weight. How I long for last year when I could slide them right on as I struggle

October is also breast cancer awareness month, which always reminds me of the other genes. Not the blue jeans that I am struggling to wear but the family genes.

How I wish that my family genes were as easy to deal with as my blue jeans. As I struggle with my blue jeans, it reminds me of my struggle with my family genes.

My mom, Marlene was one of nine women in her family, spanning 3 generations who have been afflicted by breast or ovarian cancer, including my grandmother, great aunts, aunts, cousins and my sister. My mom’s family referred to it as the Sosne curse. Only 3 women are survivors, my sister, my aunt and a cousin. I am 51, and I am surrounded by my family genes.

My earliest memory was in 1963, I was just three years old. My grandmother’s sister, my great Aunt Sarah had died of breast cancer. I can still recall the hushed conversations and whispers. The word “cancer” first entered my vocabulary. The word cancer brought fear, dread and death.

Many conversations were spent talking about the Sosne genes. As a young girl I was so confused. In those days to me jeans were my Lees’ or my Levi’s. I couldn’t understand why the women talked about blue jeans. It’s not like they ever owned a pair jeans. It was not until I was a young adult that I truly understood that the blue jeans were really the family genes. They were not the blue jeans that I love to wear, but the kind of genes that I did not want to wear. You see the genes in my family are the genes that carry breast cancer. These genes have caused much heartache and pain. These genes cause the death of many women in my family including my mother.

After the discovery of the BRCA 1 and 2 genes in 1995, the mystery of our family genes began to unfold. Here was the answer to the Sosne curse. My aunt Rochelle, my mothers’ sister and my sister Norma decided to have genetic testing. My aunt, diagnosed with breast cancer in 1996, tested positive for the BRCA2 gene. My sister tested negative. My other sister Debbie and I decided to stick our heads in the sand. We really did not want to know about the genes.

A phone call in the spring of 2004 changed my world yet again. My sister Norma had breast cancer. I was shocked and devastated. Norma had tested negative for the BRCA genes. How could this be? Within a six month period of time two more women in the Sosne family were diagnosed with breast cancer all testing negative for the BRCA genes. What was going on with the Sosne genes? The fear was rampant.

At the end of 2004 I decided to have the genetic testing done. I wanted and needed to gain some control in my life. Knowledge is power. I tested positive for the BRCA2 gene. I carry the genetic mutation for breast and ovarian cancer.

I inherited my genes from my mom. The BRCA2 gene was passed to my mom through her mother. How I wish they were hand me down blue jeans. If they were hand me down blue jeans I could opt to not take them. I don’t have that option. These are my genes and I have to wear them. I immediately had my ovaries removed. The recommended prophylactic double mastectomies were put on the back burner in favor of heavy surveillance. I was still trying to get comfortable in my genes. They didn’t fit very well.

My Sosne genes are very confusing. Here I am BRCA2 positive and cancer free. There is my sister Norma and 2 cousins diagnosed with cancer all negative for any gene mutations. The Sosne genes are very unique, sort of like designer jeans. Not only do they carry the BRCA2 gene, they experts have concluded that the Sosne genes may have their own mutation or an undiscovered BRCA mutation. How I long for the simplicity of my Lees’ and Levis.

Over the years I have taken good care of my genes. They are just like my favorite blue jeans that I want to wear for a long time. Twice a year for the last 7 years I see the doctors and I have my screenings. I am diligent. Recently my genes have started to show some wear, sort of like the tight blue jeans I tried to slide into. They are not fitting well, so the time has come to have my prophylactic double mastectomies this coming December. This decision will allow me to me live a long life with my genes.

So you can see the genes in my mother’s family are quite different than my now tight blue jeans that. I sometimes long to wear different genes but I can’t. How easy it would be if I could just buy a new pair. They are not the genes I would have chosen but just like I choose to keep my now tight jeans, I have chosen to embrace my family genes fully.

These Sosne genes have given me the opportunity to create deep and meaningful relationships with family and friends. They have helped me to learn skills to help myself. These genes opened the possibilities to develop expertise to help others in this cancer journey and to create my company GoodGrief Coaching. My genes are a gift in many ways.

I have accepted my genes just like a pair of my favorite blue jeans. I wish I could slide them on and have them fit all of the time, but that is not the case. Sometimes I struggle to wear them, however I choose to wear them proudly. So as the weather changes, and I try to pull on my now tight jeans, I am reminded of my other genes. The genes I inherited from mother. I wear them with pride because they have been the catalyst in finding my hope, my meaning and my purpose in life.

So many braids.

About 12 years ago, my 6 year old daughter Carly loved to have her hair braided. She wanted the French braid. I used the classic English braid because that was the easiest, and honestly the only one I really knew how to do.

During that time, Her dad and I were getting divorce. Her brother a special needs kid was having significant issues. It was a very chaotic, emotional and confusing time with a LOT of upheaval.

Every night for months on end before Carly went to bed I would braid her incredibly long brown hair. When I say long, I mean long, she could actually sit on it. First I would comb out her hair, and as you can imagine that was quite a process. Sometimes it was difficult because it was tangled with knots. Other times it was smooth as silk. It didn’t matter, because while I combed her hair we would talk.

It was our alone time together.

It was a time to reconnect, a time to listen and express emotions. The brushing had a calming effect for her and for me. Then I would braid my daughter’s hair. Weaving the strands creating a long rope. It was a routine, and it became a soothing and healing ritual.

For anyone who does not know, The English braid is made up with 3 equal strands of hair.You need all 3 strands to unite blend and mix to make a whole braid. Braids are imperfect. Hair grows in different lengths so sometimes the hair is to short in places and it sticks out. The hair is also thicker in areas making the braid look a bit lopsided. Many times Carly would ask me to do it again, because she didn’t like the way it looked. I really didn’t mind, it gave us more time together, and come to think of it, she liked having more time.

I learned so much about life while braiding my daughter’s hair. I learned about the soothing effect of stroke and touch. I discovered that there is a rhythm to emotions and feelings. I learned comfort and tranquility comes in little moments. I learned that I not only could I help my daughter but myself as well. I learned that everything is intertwined.

I finally realized that it was and is metaphor for our life. I realized that we are the braid. We have 3 strands that makes us whole.

The mind, the body & the spirit.

These 3 strands are interwoven, unique to each of us. It is our individual braid of well-being.

Like the hair braid, our braid of well being is imperfect. Sometimes our life looks neat and orderly. Sometimes it is lopsided and other times our lives begin to fray.

Now picture the braid. See one strand beginning to fray. It looks chaotic and messy. What happens? Eventually the braid begins to unravel.

When someone has a major change in their life such as a divorce, a cancer diagnosis, alzheimers, a death in the family, one strand of our braid is fraying. Eventually the other strands of well-being will begin to unravel.

We need all 3 strands to maintain well-being. If the body is not healthy, it affects us first physically, then it will effect us mentally and then spiritually. If we are struggling with fear, anxiety and anger, it will affect our mental health, eventually translating into our physical and spiritual well being.

Well-Being is intertwined.

Braiding hair takes practice. First you have to figure out how to hold all 3 strands. Not an easy task. Then you need to learn how to weave evenly, learning the rhythm the tightness and looseness. It is an art. It is quite difficult braiding your own hair, ask my daughter she can tell you. So asking for help might be a good idea.

We also need help learning how to braid our braid of well-being. We need to learn and to practice weaving it so it is balanced and whole. We also need to learn that our braid of well-being includes that help and support of others.

Help is an intricate piece of the braid of well-being. HELP I love that word too. I use it as an integrative tool to create and strengthen the braid of well being for individuals

H.E.L.P. is Honoring, Expressing, Learning and Practicing.

Honor emotions, feelings and thoughts. Acknowledging and validating them signals their importance and recognizes the experience. Awareness of how our mind, body and spirit are interconnected helps develop harmony between the inner self and the outer world.

Express, experience and engage in the process of thrivership. We are responsible for creating well-being. Expressing oursevlves in healthy ways releases negativity. Remember, Emotions, feelings and thoughts are honored guests. They ebb and flow. WE let them overstay their welcome. Engage using tools and techniques to express yourself and to integrate the experience, to strengthen, to maintain and nurture the braid of well-being.

Learn mindfulness to be in tune. Recognize what thoughts, feelings, emotions coping skills and therapies work and also what does not work. Discover core strengths and core values, these are foundation for the braid of well-being. Develop new emerging strengths and skills, these skills help re-weave or maintain the braid. Learn to ask for help and to receive help.

Practice, practice, practice all of the above and create an individual plan with intentions. Develop a recipe for well-being. And PLEASE remember the recipe is different for each of us. Also practice patience it is a process.

Weave these 3 strands, the mind, body and spirit. Engage, empower, integrate. Create your survivorship to thrivership braid of well-being.

How are you weaving your braid?

Carly went on to experiment with magic markers. Many a day she would be covered with sayings and drawings. It was exasperating, yet so endearing. It was a constant struggle to keep my flower-child on the right path.

Body paint came next and she even tested out nail polish when I was not looking. That was indeed a memorable event. We ended up in the emergency ward because Carly had gotten it in her eyes. I distinctly remember when we walked through the doors. The horror on the nurses faces! She looked like she was covered in blood. That’s right, it was bright red nail polish. Oy vey! Stickers, washable tattoos and henna tattoos, Carly has tried it all. I was able to hold off the permanent tattoo because I outright refused to sign the permission slip. Her step-father Isaac was dead set against it too. “It’s permanent, and she is to young” he said.

No matter what I did, Carly has always seemed to be one step ahead. Always in a hurry and very head-strong. Her grandma Marlene would say to me, “Sharon, this one will give you a run for your money, teach her without breaking her spirit.” Her words have come back to haunt time and time again. Carly also has some wonderful strengths, she is intelligent, independent, funny, loyal, emotional, deep feeling, intuitive and thoughtful. She is a wonderful mixture, full of personality and style.

Lately Carly has been going through many difficult changes. She is graduating this year from high school, and will be on her way to University of Delaware in August. She is happy, excited, fearful and anxious. These are all very normal emotions, and can be a roller coaster ride. Carly has also just ended a 3 year relationship with her boyfriend. A relationship that was well balanced and filled with fun. Unfortunately as they grew up, they grew apart. Her sadness is deep, and her heart hurts. Different yet similar to divorce, a living death. The precarious balance of calm tipped over. The roller coaster ride took a huge dive.

Last week, on a chaotic emotional whim Carly finally decided to get her tattoo. I found out through a text message while I was at a convention. “Mom, I am at the tattoo parlor and I am getting “serenity” tattooed on my shoulder.” Here it was. She finally has decided to make her body art permanent. Oy vey once again.

When I got home Carly was in her room so I quietly went in to talk to her. She was all excited to show it to me. I asked her why she did it. She said, “Mom, I have lost my serenity so I needed to tattoo it on my body so it is permanently with me.” Personally, I thought she could just get a nice sign.

A week went by and I asked Carly if she had found her serenity. She said, “No mom, it’s still not there.” I said well look over your shoulder and you can see it. She looked at me with her sad eyes, then glanced over her shoulder and cracked a smile for the first time in days.

Then I told my daughter something she already knows. Serenity always comes from within. As I said those words, it hit me. Carly must have known it all along. She tattooed it on herself as a permanent reminder. She did it in just the right place. It’s on her shoulder. How much clearer can it be. Serenity is always right here with us. When we feel that we have lost it, all we need to do is glance back, and we can see it, right over our shoulder. What a profound moment. I then gave Carly a hug and told her that the serenity will come.

Just the other day I asked my daughter how her heart was feeling. She said, “Mom, it’s ok. I decided to take care of myself just like I am taking care of my tattoo. I am doing healthy things to not open the wound so the scab can really heal.” Carly has started to find her serenity.

How do you find your serenity?

Brandon has also many wonderful strengths and attributes. He has a great sense of humor, intuition, determination and always wants to please. He has come a long way in his journey.

One of the main things that Brandon has always struggled with has been interrupting and waiting his turn to speak. For 20 years the litany has been, Brandon wait your turn, Brandon you are interrupting, Brandon wait until someone is finished talking. It’s one of the most exasperating issues and has caused a lot of frustration and anger.

Last week I had the opportunity to attend an all day Aspergers Convention. Aspergers Syndrome is an autism spectrum disorder that is characterized by significant difficulties in social interaction, along with restricted and repetitive patterns of behavior and interests. I thought it would be a great networking opportunity, however as usual what you think you are supposed to get out of something isn’t necessarily so. The keynote speaker was a gentleman who has Aspergers and struggled all his life. However, has become very successful. He spoke for 2 hours. Very inspiring. One sentence from the entire speech stood out and rocked my world. He spoke about was a strategy that he taught himself. He figured out that if he waited for the silence in a conversation then it was his turn to speak. I had the aha moment.

That night, while having a one on one dinner with my son, Brandon of course interrupted me. This time I said, Brandon, you know if you wait for the silence after someone talks that is the cue for your turn. He looked at me with surprise and wonder, then said really? I never knew that. I said, yep, maybe you should practice it and see what happens.

The next day we were out at the local deli having dinner. The conversation just flowed. We then stopped and chatted with a couple and Brandon was interacting with ease. Afterward I asked Brandon a question and there was dead silence. I said Brandon, you ok? He says yeah mom, I am practicing the silence, and I have been practicing at dinner and I practiced when I was talking to the man and lady. It’s easier than I thought. 20 Years of grappling with this issue went out the door. I then had a twinge of guilt because it took all these years to figure out one simple strategy. The next thought was joy. Joy, because a whole new world has opened up for him.

Over the past week or so, Brandon has been observing the silence. I asked him what he learned from it all. In simple terms as only Brandon can say, he says, Mom I am listening more.

Practicing the silence has given Brandon a better understanding about the art of listening. A lesson for all. How can we hear if we are so busy interrupting or talking over people. Applying silence while others are talking teaches us how to concentrate and acknowledge those around us. It creates rapport and understanding. People feel acknowledged and validated. Of course waiting for the silence to speak gives the other person the opportunity to listen as well. How simple.

I will say that Brandon does fall back into his old patterns. It usually happens when he is excited about something or has a strong opinion. However, he is learning to recognize that, and practice more silence and more listening.

What can we learn from Brandon? We can learn that we are not so different from individuals who have social difficulties. They miss the social cues, however we do to. We all interrupt or talk over each other. We forget to be silent and just listen.  The lesson is clear. Practice waiting for the silence, so we can learn how to listen.

How have you honored the silence?

My 22 year old son Brandon had been having a a negative attitude in one area of his life. When he was younger I would tell him, you need an attitude adjustment, change it or I will change it for you. Over the years he has learned tools and techniques to change and more importantly, understand how attitude can really effect you.

On this day I finally asked Brandon to rate his happiness on a scale. He said 95%, except for this one area. What was interesting was that the outlook that he had in that 5% permeated into other areas of his life. He was more impatient, easy to anger, spoke negative. His frame of mind was seriously affected. So, I began to ask lots of questions, which seriously pissed Brandon off. After the explosion came the quiet conversation. I began pointing out how his attitude in this area was seriously affecting him and his life. I asked him what changed.

It soon became apparent that Brandon had begun to listen to the people that he was surrounded with on a daily basis. Low and behold, most of them had negative and nasty comments about the current situation. He took on their attitude! After some more questions and dialogue, Brandon started to remember what he was like when his attitude was positive. I reminded him of all of his skills and strengths that he had built from all of the adversity that had come his way. That those strengths were always with him. The skills and tools a constant companion.

We then discussed once again, how attitudes and thinking have a huge influence over us. How when our attitude is positive, how life looks great, and the potential for good things to happen are there. Same goes for the opposite. I asked him to remember when he felt like that, and how his life looked.

Food for thought.

The other day Brandon came down the stairs and was this happy go lucky person. He had this air of enthusiasm about him. Finally I commented. I said, “Brandon, your in a great mood. What happened?” He said, “I changed my attitude. I decided to be grateful for the things I do have.” I said “really?” He said “yep and I feel so much better.”

Amazing. Although the circumstances that have been causing Brandon to feel negative had not changed, he changed his perspective about it. He decided to listen to what was good in his life and not the negativity. He chose to change his attitude.

Interesting how attitude is a driving force  in creating your life.

How does your attitude create your life?

Think of it like a wound that we have on our physical bodies. The difference is that a wounded heart cannot be seen. Now, if you don’t take care of the physical wound, it will become infected, take a long time to heal or never truly heal. Heartache and grief are the same.

Healing from heartache and grief involves being willing to hurt more now in order to someday hurt less. It is the process of going through- not over, around, or under. Just like a physical wound, with care the process of mending begins and eventually a scar forms. The scar is the reminder of the event. Like a physical scar as it fades, the wound to our heart can fade as you heal and re-learn how to live once again.

So how can you begin to heal your wounded heart?

Honor, Express, Learn and Practice or better known as H • E • L • P™

Honor your emotions and feelings. Acknowledging and validating them is the first step towards awareness. They are real and you are normal. Remember emotions and feelings ebb and flow.

Express and experience your emotions, feelings and thoughts. It is a rollercoaster ride with many twists and turns. Expressing eases the pain and begins the process of healing.  Crying, journaling, writing, listening to music, art, talking to someone, support groups are some ways that you can express and experience your emotions.

Learn how to raise your awareness, to cope and take responsibility and action for healing yourself.

Practice awareness, coping strategies, action and positive thoughts to create new possibilities in your life. Be patient grief has no timeline.

Time can heal, however it is what you do with the time that helps you heal.

Since Carly will soon be 18, Brandon was baffled as to why she had a sleepover. To him, a sleepover was for when you were young. So, I said, it’s a girls thing, you know so they can giggle, laugh, and talk about girl stuff. Immediately following that comment I said, when you are an adult, it’s called lunch. With that, Margie looks at me, agrees, we start to laugh and share a moment of understanding and knowing.

This got me thinking. What is a girlfriend? What is a friend? How do you define it? Then it came to me. Girlfriends or friends are our Emotional Buddy System. Buddies are two people who operate together so they can help each other through dangerous or difficult times. They essentially have our backs and create a safety net in case we are in need.

An Emotional Buddy System is a buddy that helps and supports us through difficult emotional times and shares in sorrows and our joy and happiness. They listen so we can be heard, offer a shoulder to cry on or vent, offer help when needed and boost us up when we are feeling down and depleted. They also rejoice with us when we feel on top of the world.

They know all of our deep dark secrets. Our buddy helps us fill up our emotional tank when it begins to go dry.

The importance of an Emotional Buddy System is immense. A strong emotional support system is crucial in maneuvering through emotional upheaval such as a divorce/separation, caregiving, death of a loved one, job loss, etc. The list is endless.

Many times when we are are experiencing emotional turbulance we begin to feel as if we are going it alone. Some of us will try to do it all, islolating ourselves from the support we desperately need.

By creating an Emotional Buddy System we refuel ourselves and our souls. We recharge, revitalize and regain our balance so we can move forward once again.

Think of yourself as a rechargeable battery. When a rechargeable battery gets low, it needs to be plugged into the electrical outlet. It needs to get juiced  up and gain back it’s power or it will be stop working. We are the same.

If we do not recharge our emotional batteries we will not be able to continue being effective in our lives. Emotional buddies help us reduce stress, worry and anxiety, as well as reduce high blood pressure. Emotional buddies strengthen our immune system and help us heal.

An Emotional Buddy System is a two-way street. Why? Because it is extremely important to give as it is to receive. Giving boosts are happiness, creates trust, understanding and a self worth.

How do you create an Emotional Buddy System? You don’t have to look that far. Friend, spouses or people who are experiencing the same thing are a great place to start. Evaluate the relationships and see if it works for you. You may discover that you already have an Emotional Buddy System and you did not even know it. And please remember a good Emotional Buddy will also be non-judgemental.

Who is your Emotional Buddy?

Lexi-Dog is Carlys well worn stuffed animal, given to her before she was one year old by my cousin Matt. Lexi-Dog was Carlys constant companion as she was growing up, along with Rah-Rah seal her dear cousin Shayna’s beloved stuffed toy. Both girls love those stuffed animals. There are many pictures over the years with Lexi-Dog and Rah-Rah as the girls grew up. It’s now a family tradition to snap a shot with all 4 of them together.

By now they are well worn and falling apart. Lexi-Dogs fur is almost gone, her head a bit off kilter. Carly says, I loved her so much that the fur is gone. Rah-Rah’s head needed to be sewn back on, Shayna loved her well too.

Those stuffed animals hold many deep secrets, deep emotions and deep feelings. Carly turned to Lexi-Dog when her life was turned upside down as a little girl when her dad and I separated and divorced. She was also a constant confident when her brother was out of control and needed to be hospitalized. Lexi-Dog has experienced many an emotional upheaval including arguments with friends, stress at school, a fight with mom,  break up with boyfriends, etc.

She has been Carlys partner in comfort when her heart hurts. Lexi-Dog listens intently, never judges or tells her what to do or how to feel. She accepts Carly for who she is and offers her unconditional love and support when it is most needed.

At this moment, Lexi-Dog lives with Carly in her room. Not  as a constant friend in need, as a constant friend who holds a special place in her heart. She reminds Carly that she is able to express her inner most fears during turbulent and upsetting times. And to find comfort and support within herself to heal and find joy and happiness.

Rah-Rah will be journeying to Rutgers University this coming September with Shayna. Lexi-Dog will remain here at home this year, preparing herself with Carly for her journey to college next year.

Lexi-Dog and Rah-Rah are dear old friends. Constant reminders to the girls that they are well loved, appreciated for the unconditional friendship,  emotional support and healing.  Lexi-Dog and Rah-Rah are truly honored and proud to still hold a special place in Carly and Shayna’s hearts, not because they need to, because the girls want them to.