Finding your roar: learning to set boundaries and use your voice

Safety. We are all desperate for it. It is engrained into our fibers from infancy to find safety. It’s why infants cry out to alert their caregivers and it’s why you find yourself in an endless loop of unhealthy behaviors within your relationships.

This endless loop takes many forms, but for the sake of this conversation, I’d like to focus on the endless loop of being voiceless. Have you felt this? The denial of your own opinions, the tendency to please others, the fear of what it means to “rock the boat” or “upset the applecart”.

Your fear is rooted in feeling unsafe if you decide to speak up. Maybe it’s a fear of abandonment. Maybe it’s a fear of getting hurt physically or emotionally. Maybe you’ll truly be at risk. Whatever the reason may be, did you realize that, at its core, not using your voice means that you aren’t honoring your boundaries?

Over time, you have learned covertly or overtly that your boundaries aren’t worth honoring, but I am here to advocate for you and tell you they are. You are worth honoring. It starts with understanding where you have silenced yourself and why. What are your fears? What are your longings? More importantly, how are you living as though the present is actually the past?

I’m brought to the scene in The Lion King as Simba attempts to roar, but lets out a small and unimpressive “meow”. His father comes to his rescue, letting out a roar that echoes, scaring off the hyenas who were threatening Simba’s life. This set him up to remember what it means to ROAR. Unfortunately, not everyone has that kind of example to go back to. Many have felt the sting of being left alone, learning that backing down is the only way to survive.

So, what do we do? It seems hopeless and scary. However, once we have an understanding of where we have silenced ourselves, we can begin to establish boundaries. And boundaries are what will help us truly protect ourselves. This doesn’t mean it will feel comfortable. It doesn’t mean that it will be received well. In reality, it probably won’t. And that’s okay.

It’s important to remember that boundaries are not necessarily walls. Boundaries are like fences with a gate, where you are in charge of when it is open or shut. This means that a ROAR doesn’t have to be aggressive or disrespectful. To use your ROAR means you are finally choosing to advocate for yourself. It means you are truly honest about your needs (not just denying them or lashing out at a friend or partner for not fulfilling them). It means you know your worth.

Maybe you find yourself having more of a “meow” right now. If so, therapy might be the best way for you to have a safe space to practice your ROAR. It can be comforting to know that you don’t have to do it alone.

What step can you take today to find your ROAR?

Grieving the Life You Imagined: How to Heal from Unmet Expectations

“I’m sorry for your loss”

This is a term we often share with those who have just lost a loved one. We empathize with the gut-wrenching pain they are experiencing as they say goodbye. It’s the term we use to extend a hand and say, “your grief is seen and understood”.

But, what if we also applied this to the more “subtle” areas of our lives?

I’m still not married. I’m sorry for your loss.

I don’t have a child. I’m sorry for your loss.

I’m not in the career I wanted to be in. I’m sorry for your loss.

My family and I no longer speak. I’m sorry for your loss.

I thought I would have a house by now. I’m sorry for your loss.

My loved one is bound by addiction. I’m sorry for your loss.

My illness continues to run my life. I’m sorry for your loss.

________________________________. I’m sorry for your loss.

I’m sorry for your loss. More specifically, I’m sorry for the loss that feels ambiguous and unending. Ambiguous loss is the kind of grief that doesn’t come with closure. This kind of grief is complex, layered, and often invisible to others, which is why it can be so easy for it to go unnoticed.

It’s the ache of missing someone who is still physically present but emotionally absent. It’s mourning a relationship that never became what you hoped, or grieving a future that was imagined but never realized.

In traditional losses, while never a linear process, there are pieces of finality. There are traditions or rituals that allow us to put our grief on something and lay it to rest. But, ambiguous loss? It lingers.

It lingers in the quiet spaces — in unanswered questions, in the tension between hope and reality, in the longing for what could have been. It’s the pain of watching a loved one change due to illness, addiction, or estrangement. It’s the sorrow of feeling disconnected from your own story, unsure of how to move forward when the past hasn’t let go.

How, then, do we heal? We name it. Naming it is powerful. When we give language to our losses — even the ones that don’t fit into neat categories — we begin to reclaim our voice, our story, and our healing.

We begin to give ourselves grace and the permission to sit and to lean into the process. It allows us to identify the pain as it arrives and to give that pain a voice so that it no longer takes hold of us. Just like in normal grief, the healing process won’t be linear. It will come and go, sometimes out of nowhere. And that’s okay.

Journal. Write letters that are sent or remain unsent. Give yourself permission to feel whatever emotions come up & find a way to release it. Burn the letter. Write on a balloon that you release into the sky. Write on a plate and allow yourself to break it….anything that allows you to let go. Keep repeating the process until one day, you’ll notice that it feels less painful. You’ll notice the pain comes around less often.

You may never fully release it and that’s okay. Your pain is valid and it matters. I’m sorry for your loss. Your grief is seen and understood.

What is healing?

I’ve found myself asking this question from time to time. In my own life, I see patterns coming up over and over again. With my husband, with my kids, with my friends. I think to myself, “I thought I healed from this pattern…”, just to find myself repeating it again. I become frustrated and spiral in a world of shame.

So, can someone truly be healed?

Many people I have met with over the years have come to me with this same question. With desperation in their voice, they recall all of the ways they believe they have failed. But, then I tell them…

The very fact that you’re aware of yourself and your patterns is proof that you are healing.

You see…healing does not equate to perfection. Healing does not mean that you will react to everything in the perfect way. Healing does not mean that you will not have emotions. Healing means you are growing.

The thing is, healing is the willingness to pull back the layers of your pain and to just keep trying. It’s the brave discovery of your patterns and the effort to make a shift. Not an earth-shattering shift, but a shift of a degree. That changes everything.

The tricky part is building up a tolerance. It takes a minuscule shift over and over and over again. It takes celebrating each small win because the small wins matter just as much as the big ones (in fact, they might matter even more).

You might be thinking, "That’s great, but how do I even begin the process?” I would be honored to be invited into the process. Healing doesn't have to be done alone. Scheduling a session is the first step.