How To Stop Self-Comparison

How To Stop Self-Comparison In today’s hyper-connected world, it’s all too easy to fall into the trap of comparing ourselves to others.  Whether it’s scrolling through social media, hearing about a colleague’s promotion, or even reflecting on our own aspirations, self-comparison can creep into our thoughts, often leading to feelings of inadequacy and dissatisfaction.  But why do we compare ourselves, and more importantly, how can we stop self-comparison and break free from this cycle? Well, I’ve got a few ideas… The Evolutionary Basis of Self-Comparison So, like, why do we even do this? I mean, it’s so bad for us, right?  Well, historically, comparing ourselves to others had a survival advantage.  Early humans lived in tight-knit communities where understanding one’s role and standing within the group was crucial. By observing and measuring themselves against their peers, people would be motivated to learn essential skills, adhere to social norms, and maintain group cohesion.  This innate tendency ensured that individuals remained attuned to their environment and contributed effectively to their community. However, in our modern society, this once-beneficial trait (along with numerous others!) has been hacked.  With the advent of technology and social media, we’re now exposed to a constant stream of curated content showcasing the highlights of others’ lives.  This exposure can distort our perceptions, leading us to compare our behind-the-scenes with someone else’s highlight reel. While Social Comparison Theory says there are benefits to self-comparison, I think they are very limited, particularly when you have underlying issues like C-PTSD, depression, or anxiety. Comparison is the Thief of Joy Theodore Roosevelt famously said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.”  And it’s true! The quote basically tells you why you’ve gotta nip your self-comparing ways in the bud!  You’re robbing yourself of happiness if you don’t! Engaging in constant self-comparison can cause or worsen mental health issues like: Depression: Persistent feelings of inadequacy can lead to depressive symptoms. Anxiety: Constantly measuring ourselves against others can create chronic stress and worry, always questioning, “How do I improve my worth?” Burnout: Striving to meet or exceed others’ achievements can lead to physical and mental exhaustion. Low Self-Esteem: All types of self-comparison can lead to feeling down on yourself for not being where you “should” be. Types of Self-Comparison In researching how to stop self-comparison, I found that there are actually a lot of ways we compare ourselves to others. Of course, there are the common categories of self-comparison, such as financial, beauty, workplace, or even piety. But it goes deeper than that. For me, having a deep understanding of the problem and how it manifests is already halfway to the solution.  So, here are some common ways that we compare ourselves in unhealthy ways: 1. Upward Social Comparison When we compare ourselves to those we think are better off. While it can be motivating in some ways, it often leads to feelings of inadequacy. Think of Instagram envy, and reality shows like “The Real Housewives of …” 2. Downward Social Comparison Here, we compare ourselves to those we perceive as worse off.  This might provide temporary relief or a sense of superiority, but it doesn’t bring about genuine self-improvement.  In fact, this sort of downward comparison can lead to a lot of anxiety because you’ll come to think that those “above” you are doing the same downward comparison with you! 3. Lateral Social Comparison Comparing ourselves to peers of similar status can influence our self-evaluation and drive competitiveness. This could be financial success, fitness, and even parenting! (I’ve seen and done it all). Kind of like the saying “keeping up with the Jones’” (now Kardashians). 4. The “Bigger Victim” Mentality We all know people like this. You say you had a bad day, and they come back with all the ways their day was unimaginably worse. Its a competition, but for bad things. And it is a way to garner sympathy from the audience (sympathy that is mistaken for love). Believing our struggles are greater than others’ can lead to isolation. Not to mention that you come across as severely lacking empathy. 5. Jealousy and Envy This is when you see that someone else has what you want.  “That’s not really self-comparison,” I hear you say.  But to want what someone else had is to figure out that you don’t have that thing by comparison. So, I think it still qualifies. While this can be from a healthy, goal-setting point of view, desiring what others have can lead to resentment and dissatisfaction. 6. Adopting External Comparison Sometimes, its not even you who started comparing yourself to others. Its your family, community, friends, and even the wider society.  For example, if your parents compared you to your siblings (*Why can’t you be more like your sister?”). Or if your community had certain expectations of you, (“When are you having kids?”). What becomes problematic is if you start to internalise those comparisons. Adhering to societal or familial standards and adopting them without scrutiny can create internal conflict and suppress individuality.  7. Temporal Comparisons But maybe you don’t compare yourself to others. Maybe you compare yourself to yourself. That’s healthy, right? Neeeooope! (Not the extreme way I did it, at least). For example, a lot of people compare themselves to how they were when they were younger. (“I used to be so thin/ popular/ beautiful/ athletic…”). That’s a past temporal comparison in which one could easily slip into depression about the present state of affairs. There is also the future temporal comparison in which you compare you present self to a future “ideal” you. (“One day, when I’m a millionaire/ married/ skinny/ retired…”).  While this may seem like harmless fantasy or even a case of “positive visualisation”, it can really make you feel terrible about your present, leading to a loss of motivation to work towards that fantasy. This was definitely my biggest self-comparison trap. My Battle With Self-Comparison & What Turned the Tide For me, my biggest self-comparison trap (though far be it from my

The Fundamentals of Complex Trauma in Adults: My Journey​

The Fundamental of Complex Trauma in Adults: My Personal Journey Becoming a mother changes you in profound ways. But for me, it wasn’t the glowing transformation of joy that social media likes to portray. When I gave birth to my twins, I experienced what felt like a complete unravelling of everything I thought I knew about myself.  It wasn’t just the sleepless nights or the overwhelming responsibility of caring for two new lives. Rather, I felt as if every unresolved part of my past came rushing to the surface all at once. Every hurt, every defense mechanism, and every suppressed feeling began demanding my attention.  It was terrifying, disorienting, and left me spiralling into a 14-month depression—a depression I didn’t even recognize until I began clawing my way out of it. But my breaking point also became my turning point.  Through a lot of hard, messy work, I’ve come to understand that I wasn’t broken or defective. What I was experiencing was the aftermath of complex trauma, and I now know that it’s not only possible to heal from it, but that the process of healing can lead to a richer, more authentic life.  In this post, I want to share the fundamentals of complex trauma in adults—what it is, how it manifests, and why it’s so often overlooked. And for those in the thick of it, I want to reassure you that you’re not alone and that healing is absolutely possible. Let’s go! What is Complex Trauma? It wouldn’t be a “fundamentals of complex trauma in adults” if I didn’t try to give some sort of definition of complex trauma. Complex trauma isn’t about a single, catastrophic event.  Instead, it arises from prolonged exposure to emotionally or psychologically harmful environments, often during formative years. It’s rooted in relationships, particularly those where trust and safety should exist but don’t.  Unlike the “big T” Traumas, such as one-off natural disasters or violent assaults, complex trauma is cumulative and insidious, often involving neglect, emotional invalidation, or manipulation.  Here’s how I like to think about it:  Big T events are things that happen to you when they shouldn’t. Little T traumas often involve things that don’t happen when they should—like the absence of love, respect, attention, security, reliability, or safety.  Sometimes, complex trauma can be a combination of both big T and little T trauma. (Yikes!)   Over time, these repeated absences can have the same or even greater effects as big T trauma. This is because they are subtle, hard to detect, and often invalidated or overlooked by others. For many of us, it’s easy to downplay our experiences. My childhood, for instance, seemed perfectly adequate on the surface. I was well provided for materially, and from the outside, my family appeared stable.  But beneath that veneer were years of emotional neglect and dysfunction—parents who could be invalidating, neglectful, and emotionally absent. These experiences taught me to people-please, to fear confrontation, and to internalise a sense of unworthiness. I was super confused, for years, around why I just couldn’t get my sh*t together. Characteristics & Fundamentals of Complex Trauma in Adults Educating yourself about the characteristics of complex trauma is often the first step to healing.  Understanding how these traits may have developed as responses to certain elements in your formative years can help alleviate the confusion, self-blame, and anger you might feel.  My Complex Trauma Bible is Tim Fletcher’s “60 Characteristics of Complex Trauma“, which provides a comprehensive framework for understanding how it impacts adults. He has a series on YouTube as well. It’s changed my life! Here, I’ll highlight some key ways it showed up in my life and how it might manifest for others: 1. Emotional Dysregulation For years, I felt like my emotions controlled me rather than the other way around. Either that, or I’m completely shut down – robot style.  I’d swing between anxiety, sadness, and determination in a short period. Small frustrations, like a rude comment or an unexpected change in plans, could leave me spiralling for hours or days.  This emotional volatility is the one thing that bonds all of us complex trauma people together. We just don’t know how to regulate our emotions! How could we? We were never taught (but it’s not too late).  2. People-Pleasing and Fear of Conflict Growing up, there was only room for my father’s anger and demands in the house. So, I learned that avoiding conflict was safer than asserting my needs.  As an adult, this translated into people-pleasing behaviours: Saying “yes” when I wanted to say “no.” Changing my character, accent, and entire personality depending on the person. Bending over backwards to avoid upsetting others (which sometimes involved manipulation!).    The very thought of confrontation could leave me paralysed with fear. 3. Hypervigilance Are you an Empath/ Highly Sensitive Person? Well, you might have complex trauma! Complex trauma keeps you on high alert, constantly scanning for potential threats. It’s a body’s nervous system trying to figure out fight-flight-freeze-fawn responses. So, I’d replay conversations in my head, analysing every word for hidden meanings or signs of disapproval. And eventually, I became a “highly sensitive person” or “empath“.  Not someone who would cry at the drop of the hat (this was not allowed in my childhood home). But rather someone who could infer how a person felt from a simple look or micro-expression.  People admired this about me. “Wow, you’re so perceptive!” But damn, what a price to pay for being observant.  This hyper-awareness is exhausting and makes it very difficult to relax. 4. Sense of Inferiority No matter how many external achievements I racked up—from academic successes to professional milestones—I couldn’t shake the belief that I was fundamentally “less than.”  Whether I based it on my race and ethnicity, or my gender, or my nationality – you name it, I was feeling less than. Sure, there’s a component of social hierarchies, structural racism, and actual discrimination going on.  But because I didn’t have a strong enough sense of self, I

Bralessness: A Mental Bra-Burning Movement

Bralessness: A Mental Bra-Burning Movement We live in a world that values comfort, self-expression, and freedom. Just joking. Many of us women feel pressured to slip on a bra every morning. This modern-day corset has become such a part of our daily routine that we don’t even question it as one of the subtle signs of the patriarchy. But when you begin to examine the history and deeper implications of bras, you realise just how entrenched they are in beauty standards and the male gaze. It’s about more than just “support”—it’s about who decides what’s acceptable for women’s bodies. (And it ain’t the woman, as we’ve seen time and again). One day, it dawned on me that I genuinely didn’t enjoy wearing bras, and I finally felt safe enough to go outside without one. (More on that later). That was a turning point. Since then, I’ve chosen to go braless, except for sports. And honestly? I don’t want to go back. To add to my little experiment, my husband decided to wear a bra to understand what all the fuss was about. (More on that later, too). Needless to say, I’m embarking on a de-patriarchisation of the mind. A mental bra-burning movement, if you will.  Read on and share your thoughts. From Corsets to Bras: A Continuum of Body Control Looking back, it’s strange to think that corsets were once everyday wear for women. From the Renaissance to the 20th century, it’s what fashionable, well-to-do women wore for 500 years! (Give or take). Imagine squeezing yourself into something so tight you could barely breathe! (I suppose a lot of women do this with shapewear now? I’ve never tried). But those contraptions shaped women’s bodies, literally rearranging their internal organs to fit this narrow, “ideal” form.  And for what?  Certainly not for comfort or health.  Like a shapely vase, corsets were for display, to create a silhouette that pleased the eyes of men and society. Women were the objects. Silent, agreeable pieces of movable beauty (that were also f*ckable).  A Reductionist History of Strapping our Breasts to our Chests When bras became mainstream around the turn of the 20th century, they were hailed as more “liberating”.  But now I wonder, were they really that different?  Sure, they didn’t crush our torsos, but the principle remains the same. Shape yourself to be attractive, because her appearance is all the currency a woman has. They’re the same tool of control, just in a different package.  Honestly, in principle, it’s not too different to foot-binding in ancient China, where women’s feet were tightly bound to create this “ideal” look. (And whether it’s bras or feet, it seems like the “ideal” was rather juvenile). It’s all about manipulating ourselves to be perfect brides. And, in this way, what we were doing to our bodies fitted perfectly with what we were doing to our minds. Bras and the Male Gaze For the longest time, I didn’t think twice about bras.  Like many women, I excitedly started wearing bras as a pre-teen because it symbolised “being a woman”, more grown-up than my flat-chested girlfirends.  But as I thought about it more, I began to realise that the expectation to wear bras isn’t a natural law. It’s a patriarchal law. And just because the majority think it’s the way to do something, it doesn’t make it true, or beneficial. After all, it took humanity centuries to accept that the sun, not Earth, is at the center of our planetary system.  The whole idea that breasts should look a certain way, that they must be lifted and hidden, isn’t a choice most of us arrive at on our own.  It’s a deeply ingrained belief that our natural bodies are wrong if they deviate from society’s idea of perfection.  Undiagnosed Social Perfectionism And that perfection, in itself, is an inherently unreachable standard. We will always be considered too-something, despite all our efforts. Too fat, thin, too natural, too made-up. Too-something. It’s why the cosmetics, diet and plastic surgery industries are so prevalent. For years decades, I internalised that message. I didn’t even think about it. I was totally blended with the way things were. Too in it to realise that I was swimming in poop.  It was only when I began therapy and decided that I was the only person I needed to please—with my body, my thoughts, and my life—that I started questioning all the things I’d been doing automatically to participate in an unspoken “mating game” where men hold all the power. I’m not willing to subscribe to that anymore. The Feminist Rebellion – The Bra Burners of the Past When I started learning more about feminism, I discovered that women in the 1960s and 70s had already started questioning these norms. So yes, it’s not a Millennial/ Gen-Z fad. (Although, more on that later). You might have heard about “bra-burning feminism.”  The reality is, women didn’t actually burn their bras en masse, but they did throw them away as a symbolic act of rebellion.  It was their way of rejecting the expectations around their bodies and reclaiming their comfort and agency. For those women, discarding bras was about saying, “My body is my own, and I don’t need to fit anyone else’s standard.” And even though I feel like we’ve come a long way, bras are still largely unquestioned today. We may not be wearing corsets, but many of us still wear bras just because it’s “normal.”  For me, going braless has become a quiet act of reclaiming that comfort and authenticity. It’s a small thing, but every day, it reminds me that I don’t have to shape myself to fit anyone else’s expectations. A Mental Bra-Burning Movement What do we all do when we get home? Sometimes, before I even take my shoes off, I’m unclipping my bra and taking it off through my clothes.  They don’t make me feel comfortable or good about myself. Sure, I liked the way my boobs look in them, but that’s

Are Hair Extensions Harmful? New Shocking Research

Are Hair Extensions Harmful? New Shocking Research Despite growing up in South Africa, where hair extensions are almost universally worn by black girls and women, I only really tried hair extensions well into adulthood. As someone with an Ethiopian family, it just wasn’t our zeitgeist.  But once the mood to experiment with colour and length without dyeing or cutting my hair struck me, there was only really one option.  So, I became part of the growing number of Black women who have embraced synthetic hair extensions. I loved how I looked with them. They gave me a break from the time-consuming upkeep of my natural hair and allowed me to switch up my style whenever I wanted.  But one day, as I was packing our things to move homes, I noticed a silky-haired wig at the back of my closet.  And a question occurred to me: “Are hair extensions harmful?” I wondered.  And then many more: “Does the weight of the extensions damage my roots? Do they hurt my scalp? Why are they so itchy sometimes?” Here are my findings from that Google rabbit hole… Are Hair Extensions Harmful to My Hair? Have you ever experienced that dull, persistent headache after getting a fresh install? The tight pulling at your scalp as your hair is braided, often tighter than necessary to “make it last”? It’s not just discomfort—it’s your body telling you something is wrong. Traction alopecia, a condition where hair is pulled from the root, is no joke. It’s common among women who wear their hair in tight styles like braids, weaves, or even buns for extended periods of time.  When hair is pulled repeatedly, especially with the added weight of synthetic extensions, it can lead to permanent hair loss. Most black women I know opt for the tightly pulled look because it lasts long (4-6 weeks) and is a whole lot neater than a looser braid.  Personally, I have a very low threshold for discomfort. I always did my extensions myself, and redid them when they felt a bit tight. But the trade-off is that mine didn’t last nearly as long.  But there are plenty of older black women with little patches of thinning hair at their temples and a receding hairline, likely from tightly pulling hairstyles.  So, it turns out that what we’ve called “protective styles” often leads to damaging our hair. Are Hair Extensions Harmful to My Health? Whether you had a tight braid or a looser variety, extensions make it hard to sleep. But it’s worse if it’s tight. I’m sure many of you can relate—tossing and turning with a tight, uncomfortable scalp, trying to find a way to rest without pulling on your hair. Even once the pain reduces, there is still the matter of trying to sleep with this massive volume of hair on the back of your head. Whether you tie a top knot or tie it downwards, it still affects how you can sleep, both by its positioning and the weight it carries. Discomfort, lack of sleep, and the stress of maintaining extensions add up. And there wasn’t an easy solution. Not wearing extensions (and all the maintenance that comes with that) caused me as much anxiety as wearing them did. But in the world of the black woman, it’s often a case of damned if you do, damned if you don’t. New Research: The Hidden Chemicals in Synthetic Hair Extensions (!!!) But I knew all that.  This is what made my chuck our all my extensions and wigs. New research has begun to reveal how synthetic hair extensions are often treated with chemicals that may be harmful to our health.  Recent studies have found that many of these extensions contain chemicals like  phthalates (a reproductive disrupter),  volatile organic compounds (VOCs) (damages the central nervous system),  acrylonitrile (skin and respiratory issues), and  vinyl chloride (carcinogen: linked to liver cancer).    These wonderful chemicals are found in most synthetic fibers like Kanekalon. and are often absorbed through the scalp, especially when heat is applied during styling, or when the extensions are worn for long periods. Moreover, synthetic extensions release extra VOCs during heat styling, potentially aggravating respiratory conditions like asthma, especially in black communities already vulnerable to health disparities.  These findings point to an urgent need for better consumer protection and more research on the long-term effects of synthetic hair extensions. The lack of regulation allows these toxins to continue being used despite their risks.  (We’ll come back to regulation and trusting the government on health matters later). Cultural Mistrust of Research: Why We Have to Do Our Own Homework As Black women, we’ve often been the last to benefit from scientific research, and sometimes, we’ve been unwilling participants. From the ‘doctor’, now named ‘the father of gynaecology’, who purchased black slave women to experiment on to Henrietta Lacks, whose cervical cancer cells was taken without consent by Johns Hopkins, there’s a long history of Black people, particularly Black women, being mistreated or entirely ignored by the research community. This historical exploitation leads many of us to mistrust medical professionals and researchers—and honestly, with good reason. When was the last time you saw a major beauty brand release information specifically about the long-term health effects of the products we use daily, especially those marketed to Black women? We’re left to do our own research, trying to decipher ingredient lists that are confusing at best and intentionally misleading at worst. It’s an added burden that falls disproportionately on us.  We’re responsible for keeping ourselves informed, asking the hard questions about what we’re putting on our heads—and by extension, what’s seeping into our bodies. That’s why I decided to stop using synthetic hair extensions altogether.  It was a hard choice.  Like many of you, I love the versatility, the ease, and the beauty of the styles I could achieve with extensions. But once I knew the risks, I couldn’t justify continuing.  For me, the potential damage to my health—and the health of my loved ones—just wasn’t worth it. The Pressure to Have “Good

The Anxiety of Change: Why Even Small Shifts Bring Big Emotions

Change is a part of life.  Just last month, we moved apartments. And even though I knew the change was coming, and said on a number of occasions, “there’s a big change coming – we need to cut ourselves a lot of slack,” it didn’t stop that change from kicking our metaphorical asses. Change, in my case, is pretty… undignified. Whatever the opposite of graceful is, you’ll find me there during major shifts. And that’s true for many.  Whether it’s moving to a new city, starting a new job, or even small lifestyle adjustments, many of us feel a sense of unease both before, during, and a long time after the change. This is definitely true of change we don’t see coming. Or bad changes we know are on their way.  But why can even positive change—something we’ve looked forward to—trigger anxiety? The answer lies in how our minds and bodies respond to uncertainty.  For those of us who’ve experienced complex trauma, this reaction is often heightened. Even though change can be good for us, our past experiences can cause us to misinterpret all change as a threat.  Let’s dive deeper into the anxiety of change and how we can (try to) navigate it in a healthier way. **This post and my research on the topic is just as much for me as it is for an external audience** Why does change trigger anxiety? The Nature of Change Change, even when positive, represents uncertainty.  Our brains are still wired to prefer stability and predictability. (How unfortunate for those of us in this modern era). And to our limbic, reptilian brains, predictability = safety.  When something new arises—like moving house or starting a new study program (both of which I have done this month!)—it sets off alarm bells throughout the body.  So, the perceived vulnerability that comes with uncertainty often leads to some degree of anxiety. Even when the change is ultimately beneficial.   Complex Trauma & Maladation to Change For those of us with complex trauma (CPTSD), any shift—whether positive or negative—can feel unsettling.  Tim Fletcher, my favourite internet psychologist, says people with CPTSD can often see change as dangerous because it threatens the familiar.  Even if that familiar wasn’t good.  Why? Because complex trauma survivors often associate change with painful transitions. Especially if we were unsupported during key life moments like childhood moves, family breakdowns, or other major disruptions.  These early experiences can condition us to resist change or label it as dangerous. So our brains registered another equation and stored it deep in our bodies. Change is always bad and I will have to deal with it all by myself. When I moved house recently and decided to return to studying, I knew that these changes would affect me. They were exciting and positive life decisions, but the anxiety still crept in.  I experienced a whole load of symptoms. One of the scariest was the return of intrusive, catastrophic thoughts. Like, “What if your daughter got hit by a car?” or “What if you all end up homeless and on the street?” On the surface, these thoughts have nothing to do with starting a new study program or changing apartments. But when I reflected on my anxiety around these changes, I realised that it wasn’t the move or the studying itself that was scary. It was the childhood memory of going through major life shifts feeling alone and unsupported.  And the flying catastrophic thoughts? They were just a symptom of my heightened anxiety. My brain was scared, and it was letting me know.  Recognising that made it easier to understand where the anxiety was coming from. And it helped me avoid mislabeling the change as inherently bad. Positive Change Isn’t Always Comfortable It’s easy to believe that positive changes should automatically feel good.  But here’s the truth: change can feel uncomfortable no matter how good it is.  The anxiety of change stems from our maladaptive response, which is often rooted in past trauma. Just because something feels bad doesn’t mean it is. Mislabeling Positive Change as Negative When I moved to my new home and started studying again, I felt anxious, despite the excitement of new beginnings.  In the past, I would have taken that anxiety as a sign that something was wrong.  However, this time, I was able to separate my feelings from the actual change.  I reminded myself that these feelings were my body’s response to the unknown—not evidence that something bad was happening. (“No, we aren’t going to end up homeless on the street anytime soon”). By recognising that discomfort during change is normal, we can stop sabotaging ourselves or avoiding growth.  It’s important to remember that feeling anxious doesn’t mean the change is bad—it just means it’s new. How to Build Resilience to the Anxiety of Change Thankfully, we don’t have to stay stuck in anxiety every time life shifts.  Here are some strategies that have worked for me (to an extent). Hopefully, they’ll help you to strengthen your resilience to both positive and negative change: 1. Self-Compassion: Acknowledge Your Feelings Without Judgement Half the battle when anxiety surfaces is recognising and acknowledging it for what it is: a natural bodily response to the fear of the unknown. (Remember how our brains don’t enjoy the unfamiliar?) Don’t suppress it. Don’t judge yourself for feeling that way. (And don’t judge yourself for judging yourself, either!) Even if your reaction is extreme of disproportionate, your body has likely been conditioned for decades to react this way.  Be kind to yourself. Change is hard, and it’s okay to struggle with it. It will take time to learn a different way of managing change. 2. Understand the Roots of Your Anxiety Often, anxiety during change is linked to old wounds.  Explore where your feelings come from.  For me, change as a child meant that I needed to toughen up and harden my heart to take the blows that came with entering foreign, often hostile territory. (e.g. Moving to racist South Africa as a toddler, skipping

Women, Belly Breathing, & the Male Gaze

A couple weeks ago, as I was waiting for my husband and daughters at the airport, I noticed something interesting.  A lot of the young women coming through Arrivals had stiff, straight abdomens. Their tummies weren’t moving when they breathed, just their chests.  It took me back to a memory from my pre-teen years. Those volatile, impressionable years where many parts of our lives can be susceptible to societal hijack. Especially true of young girls.  The memory was of me making a conscious decision to try to chest breathe instead of belly breathe. I didn’t want to be caught with my belly ballooning out. Like, ever. So, in an effort to look slim and appear more beautiful (to strangers, I guess?), I began my journey into chest breathing. I had since made a conscious reverse-decision to deeply belly breathe no matter what.   But it got me wondering about what other subtle signs of patriarchy might be out there if something as fundamental as the way we breathe can be shaped by societal standards. In this post, we’ll explore the connection between chest breathing, fat-shaming, and unrealistic beauty standards, all framed by the influence of the patriarchy.  For many women, belly breathing—though healthier—has been subtly discouraged as a way of controlling female bodies to align with the male gaze.  Let’s start with the basics… What Is Belly Breathing, and Why Is It Healthier? Belly breathing (also known as diaphragmatic breathing) is the natural, optimal way to breathe. When you belly breathe, you engage your diaphragm fully, allowing your lungs to expand to their full capacity.  This provides a deeper intake of oxygen, slows your heart rate, and triggers your body’s relaxation response, also known as the parasympathetic nervous system. In contrast, chest breathing is more shallow. It often occurs when we’re stressed, anxious, or holding tension in our bodies—conditions that many women experience regularly.  Chest breathing can also be a symptom of engaging the sympathetic nervous system, living in survival mode or being in fight or flight. Over time, many women start chest breathing unconsciously, and the calming benefits of belly breathing are left behind. Benefits of Belly Breathing: Increased oxygen intake: With deeper breaths, you allow more oxygen into your system, supporting overall physical and mental health. Stress reduction: Belly breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system, promoting relaxation and reducing anxiety. Improved core strength: It engages the core muscles, contributing to better posture and even reducing the risk of injury. Better emotional regulation: Deep breathing helps you stay grounded and calm, a critical skill in dealing with daily stressors.   So if belly breathing is so good for us, why aren’t more women doing it? Why Aren’t Women Belly Breathing? While my little-girl self made a conscious choice to chest-breathe rather than belly breathe, many girls and women are conditioned to chest breathe without even realising it.  For decades, women have been told, directly and indirectly, that their value is linked to how thin or small they can make their bodies appear. (Isn’t that just a beautifully apt way for how the patriarchy tries to minimise females into submission?). And one of the ways we internalise this message is by sucking in our stomachs to create the illusion of slimness. Over time, this leads to habitual chest breathing, as our stomachs are constantly held in rather than allowed to expand naturally during breath. And while this is 100% anecdotal, I’m convinced this is true for maaaany women out there.  The Pressure to Have a “Flat Stomach” Think about the last time you saw a woman with a relaxed, soft belly in a magazine ad.  Rarely, if ever, right?  Media, fashion, and even social media have glorified the image of a perfectly flat stomach. Never mind that this isn’t a realistic or healthy expectation for most of us.  Fat-shaming—the negative stigma attached to having fat on our bodies—compounds this issue, as we’re made to feel ashamed of our natural bodies. Even health movements are often co-opted to promote fat loss, rather than true health, leaving us with the belief that any hint of a round stomach is unacceptable.  This pervasive beauty standard doesn’t just affect how we look at ourselves in the mirror. It shapes how we move, sit, stand, and even breathe. The Patriarchy Discourages Women Belly Breathing At the heart of this phenomenon is *drumroll* THE PATRIARCHY! A system that has historically controlled women’s bodies to align with the expectations of men. By discouraging belly breathing—whether consciously or unconsciously—society subtly enforces the idea that our bodies should be small, quiet, and controlled. The Role of Fatphobia in Policing Women’s Bodies As women, we are constantly told to shrink ourselves. This doesn’t just apply to weight but extends to how we occupy physical and social spaces.  Fatphobia, the systemic fear and stigmatisation of fat bodies, ensures that, as women, we are encouraged to take up as little space as possible.  By chest breathing, we avoid expanding our bodies, minimising our presence and reinforcing the idea that our value comes from being thin, pleasant to men, and unobtrusive. Control Over Women’s Bodies for Male Approval When we trace this issue back to its root, we find the influence of the male gaze—the notion that women’s appearances and actions are primarily evaluated through a lens of male approval.  A flat stomach, even to the point of inhibiting natural breathing, is often considered more attractive by societal standards. Think about the centuries of corset-wearing women did! This leads to us women being socially conditioned to prioritse aesthetics over our own well-being. #Shoutout to ShapeWear! Even when it affects something as fundamental as our breath.   But this isn’t just about vanity.  It’s about control.  Women are taught to constantly monitor and adjust their bodies, leaving little room for autonomy and authenticity.  So, the simple act of letting your belly expand during a breath becomes a form of rebellion. Ridiculous, I know, but also true.  Women belly breathing is a declaration that our bodies are not meant

A Safe Space for Black Women | Chai & Sunshine

When starting Chai & Sunshine, I looked up many successful blogs for inspiration. Cup of Jo and The Blonde Abroad were of particular interest for the aesthetic and the engagement.  But I subconsciously imbibed something else from my blogging research.  That to be successful, I should keep things light.  To be successful, I should keep things white. My blog should be about design and style, with curated images and clever, non-threatening humour.  But as I work through my own unlearning – including internalised racism and misogyny – I realise that what I want to talk about and create is not just another “white woman blog”.  I do not want to be a minor character in my own creation.  What I want to create is a safe space for authenticity, starting with myself. I want to create a safe space for black women, which means a safe space for all women, which means a safe space for everyone. I want to create space for us to exist as our whole selves. And I want to do this intentionally. Not when it’s convenient. Not as a “nice to have”.  So, I’m going to be redoing the categories on this blog to better reflect me my actual values.  And it will be unapologetic. Say it unapologetically What I feel x My values = Say it unapologetically I came across this equation today and fell in love.  As part of the childhood trauma club, it’s been a long journey to figuring out how I actually feel about things. Historically, I have only concerned myself with how others feel and how I was supposed to feel in reaction to that to avoid conflict.  When I started on the journey of authenticity, it would take me a couple of weeks before I could identify what that twinge in my tummy meant. I’ve gotten that down to a few minutes now.  Not knowing what I truly felt about things meant that I also didn’t know what my values were. I certainly could not tell you whether I valued myself. But there were clear indications that I did not value myself very highly.  Understanding how I truly feel about things, and working through questions around my intrinsic value as a human being have helped me grow immensely in confidence.  A year ago, I would have not had the confidence to unapologetically say:  I am created a safe space for black women on my blog.  And I don’t care about being everything to everybody anymore.  Don’t try to be everything to everybody Are you a people-pleaser?  Well, name 3 people who are pleased with you.  As a veteran people-pleaser, I have a duty to inform the active-duty people-pleasers that it is a senseless quest you embark on. My blog so far has been trying to cater to the feelings of everyone. Mainly women.  But not saying anything about my experience as a black, African, woman, that may make anyone else feel excluded or uncomfortable.  But in censoring such integral parts of myself, I wasn’t being authentic.  And we aren’t about that anymore.  So, while everyone is and always will be welcome, I will also be specifically expressing my experiences as a black woman.  Final Thoughts My journey through to finally allowing myself to take up space is sweet and beautiful.  It’s like I can finally see myself – the core of personality beneath all the trauma responses I had adopted to survive.  Join me on this ride into realness, y’all. 

European Cuisine: A Food Tour of Epic Portions

“European cuisine,” a restaurant sign said.  European cuisine???  What European cuisine?  European cuisine is as diverse as its languages, landscapes, and histories. We can’t simply lump them into a homogenous continental taste. So, in this post, we’ll embark on a culinary journey through the continent, exploring the rich flavours that make European food so extraordinary. And if you behave, dear reader, I may even suggest some culinary food itineraries. This way, you can eat, pray, love your way through the deliciousness.  You’re welcome!  Disclaimer: Europe is a vast continent with countless regional variations. This post is just a starting point for your culinary exploration. So please, get curious. This post is also limited to where I have travelled to/ food I have explored. There’s obviously soooo much more. And I am also highly biased. Potato & Beer Europe Although every country in the world has it’s own quirks, it’s clear that there is a very obvious culinary divide on the European continent.  On social media, it’s been called the potato/ tomato divide. I’ve also heard it being called the beer/ wine divide. It also follows the weather (grim/ sunny), and a language divide (Germanic, Latin). IYKYK.  We’re going to first look at the potato/ beer/ grim weather/ Germanic European cuisine first.  Vegans, turn away NOW!  German Cuisine is (Not?) the Wurst A giant schnitzel with a meagre side salad When I visited Germany nearly 10 years ago, the food was NOT something I enjoyed. As a long-time vegetarian, I was a little annoyed that even the French fries came with ham bits and were fried in animal fat.  But I was pleasantly surprised on a work trip to Berlin a couple of years back where I found a wide variety of fun, delicious eating spots in the vibrant city. Unfortunately, as a vegetarian, none of these spots offered traditional German cuisine.  German food is still heavily meat-based. Schnitzel, the endless variations on the wurst sausages, pork and chicken dishes dominate the main meals. I cannot attest to their deliciousness, but it does look very hearty (if not a little heart-attack-y).  Beyond boiled vegetables, there are some German–vegetarian options, like the German-version of mac-and-cheese: käsespätzle. German baked goods are also delicious. They have many gorgeous dark breads, yummy cakes, and, of course, it’s the home of the pretzel (vegan!). For vegetarian versions of German cuisine, check out Forsters in Berlin. You’re welcome! British Pub Grub A Beef Wellington with a Degree from Oxford I detest “chip shops” and old-style pubs (including every Weatherspoons I’ve ever been to). They’re smelly, dusty and dark. Or worse, lit with operating-table fluorescent lights and reeking of cheap oil. The food at these places is also generally quite hit-and-miss. And more often than not, a greasy miss. Thankfully, a sub-group of British cuisine has evolved significantly from the traditional pub grub.  Introducing: the gastropub. These are pubs that serve high-quality food, and often offer a better ambiance, too.  Gastropubs create delicious, modern takes on British classics like the shepherd’s pie, fish & chips, and various pies.  And the wonderful thing about the UK is that they cater very well to a variety of diets. Gluten-free, vegetarian, vegan, nut-free… you’ll find something delicious for everyone.  The one thing I don’t mess with in the UK?  Traditional British desserts.  Be it the scones, sticky toffee pudding, or the god-awful Christmas cake that Brits like to set on fire, it’s a “no” from me. I’ll eat everything else, though.  Except for the black pudding. (It’s made from congealed blood). Swiss Cheese & Chocolate The Swiss Win Potato European Cuisine with the Cheese Fondue Now, if I had to live anywhere in Potato Europe and settle for only having that specific European cuisine my whole life, I would choose Switzerland.  I would, however, be cheating.  Because Switzerland is Potato and Tomato Europe fused into one ball of deliciousness.  You have the Alpine lamb dishes, hearty stews, and cheese pies. (Yup, that gorgeous Swiss cheese with the holes). And you have the lovely dishes from their French side, including raclette and fondue.  And if that isn’t enough, there’s an Italian speaking area of Switzerland, too. So, hello Risotto and pasta!  And don’t forget dessert. Swiss chocolate. Swiss rolls. Swiss meringue. All the cakes and pastries… *salivates* Switzerland really has it all.  Belgium: Half Potato, Half Tomato Second only to Switzerland, I’d choose Belgium.  Half potato and beer, half tomato and wine, Belgium is a delicious blend of culinary traditions from all across European cuisine.   Think of Belgian fries to Belgian chocolates to Belgian waffles to Belgian beer… yes, it’s ALL delicious! (By the way, what we think of as “French fries” are actually Belgian. Just erroneously named by American soldiers during one of the world wars). So if you’re looking to sample different cuisines and cultures without leaving one country, go to Belgium. You’ll find French, Dutch, and Flemmish traditions, all with numerous tasty treats to offer a food tourist. Czech Beer & Dumplings Beer is Cheaper than Water in Czechia… I went to Prague, and honestly cannot remember anything I ate.  This might be because the beer was cheaper than water. Tasty, light, and so diverse! Czech beer is some of the best in the world.  But if you are looking for something to help you hold your alcohol down, you can check out their dumplings (knedlíky) and some of their stews.  People have told me that Czech food is comfort food.  And maybe it is.  I just don’t remember much of anything from my trip to Prague. Except for the beer and a very scary Russian man at the bar… Tomato & Wine Europe Tomato Europe, or southern European cuisine. Yessss.  The Mediterranean diet is as yummy as it is healthy (in moderation!). It’s also made for slow eating among friends and family. I’ve spent a good amount of time in France, Spain, and Italy. Our family is currently living in Portugal.  If you’re looking for fun, sun, and yum, Tomato Europe is your jam. Ze French: Oui, oui, mais ouias… Apéro: A French Pre-Drinks with Cheese,

Scheduled Downtime: Why It’s Good to do Nothing Once in a While

Scheduled downtime.  It’s a term associated to our technological companions. But somehow doesn’t come with the same kind of acceptance and understanding when referring to us.  More often than not, it doesn’t even cross our minds to book in some scheduled downtime for ourselves. And when it does, it often comes with guilt and hesitation.  So, what is it about rest that has us feeling so conflicted? Here’s my take on why it’s good to do nothing once in a while, and why we don’t do it. What is scheduled downtime? (And what’s not?) Our society is so far removed from what true, planned rest looks like, I thought it worthwhile to define it for us.  Scheduled downtime is not simply taking a holiday or some paid time off. It’s a statement of value to yourself and to others. You’re demonstrating with your actions that you value yourself and your health.  Here is my criteria for what qualifies (and what doesn’t!) as scheduled downtime: 1. Scheduled Downtime is Planned Ahead of Time Though it may seem obvious, scheduled downtime has to be scheduled. So, quality downtime can’t be spontaneous or opportunistic – like when you’ve got an unexpected lull at work or when you’re ill.  To make full use of scheduled downtime, it should be planned. Not only will it help you fully relax, but you’re also sending yourself an important message.  You’re telling your nervous system that you value yourself, your mind, and your body, and that you are deserving of rest. 2. Scheduled Downtime is Free from Responsibility It’s not scheduled downtime if you still have your usual responsibilities.  Kids. Chores. It should all be put on hold. Nobody and nothing should be relying on you during your downtime.  There should also be no threat of responsibility. So, don’t be sneakily pretending to “work from home” hoping no one finds out.  Formally take time off, get your automatic e-mails up, and make sure your kids (and/ or spouses) are not around to bother you. 3. Scheduled Downtime is NOT a Time to Keep Up with Anything Except the Kardashians One thing you might be tempted to do is use the scheduled downtime to get ahead on your ever-growing task list.   We’re so pressured keep up with our work, our chores, and even with replying to e-mails and WhatsApps, that we often feel obliged to use our downtime to do that. But scheduled downtime means that you give yourself a break from that all-consuming pressure. Release yourself from the need to keep up. 4. Scheduled Downtime should Free Up Mental Real Estate Not only should you not be doing anything to keep up with work or chores during your scheduled downtime, but you should also be giving your mind a rest. During scheduled downtime, you should try to minimise your mental stress and the number of taxing decisions you have to make.  This also means not forcing yourself to stick to your normal routines (bye-bye 5 am wake up!) or other optional commitments.  Your scheduled downtime is for fully recharging, not for enforcing discipline. Why it’s good to do nothing sometimes, but why it feels so bad I find something inherently depressing but very telling about the term Paid Time Off, or “PTO.”  It’s thinly veiled corporate speak for the harsh equation: work in exchange for permission to exist outside of work.  It implies our primary purpose is to toil away, with brief respites granted at the employer’s discretion. Work is, therefore, the centre of our lives. But should our worth be measured by our output? And should leisure time be reduced to a necessary evil to prevent burnout? If our corporate overlords could find a way to prevent worker burnout without the leave, I’m sure we’d see our precious PTO vanish. “Idle Hands are the Devil’s Playthings” This warped perspective on work and leisure has its roots in a puritanical work ethic that equates idleness with sin. Capitalism has since proliferated this worldview and conditioned us into believing that relaxation is a moral failing.  However, our drive for productivity ignores our evolutionary history. Hunter-gatherers worked far less than we do. But ever since the agrarian revolution, we’ve been steadily working longer and harder hours.  And now, the information age threatens to blur the lines between work and life even further. Because of technology, we’re now “on call” 24/7. This relentless pressure to be constantly productive creates a toxic cycle of guilt and exhaustion.  How often and for how long should you do nothing? The ideal duration and frequency of scheduled downtime is going to be different for different people.  But while there’s no one-size-fits-all answer, I recommend aiming for regular periods of uninterrupted relaxation.  Some people like weekend getaways or more frequent half-day escapes. But my schedule is 3 full days of scheduled downtime every 3 months.  Even though I spend those 3 days in a (often dark) room with food and lots of TV to watch, they leave me more refreshed than a conventional holiday away.  The key is to listen to your body and mind.  Recognise when you’re likely to feel overwhelmed or burnt out to schedule in some downtime before you snap. Then make it a tradition! Scheduled downtime: Some ground rules to consider Now, I don’t have hard set rules for scheduled downtime. But I do have some guidelines.  I’ll share my personal rules with you in case you find them helpful: (1) Be Alone For me, it’s not really downtime if I’m with someone. And as lovely and easy as my husband is, there’s just something recharging about being alone.  Maybe it’s not having to check in with anyone. Maybe it’s about not having to speak for a couple of days.  Whatever it is, I definitely recommend doing your scheduled downtime alone.  (2) Be Unavailable Do not be nice and tell people that they can contact you if they need something.  Let them figure out what to do on their own!  Warn your work colleagues, your parents, your kids, your spouse not to contact you unless it’s an emergency. 

How to Stop Being a Perfectionist Parent (and Enjoy Your Kids)

I’m writing this “how to stop being a perfectionist parent” post specifically for my husband, knowing full well that he will likely never read it.  The topic came up yesterday.  “I feel like we’re failing,” he told me, out of the blue. “The house is always a mess, we never give them proper meals, and they watch too much TV.” “Wow,” I thought. “He sounds just like my inner voice from back when I was depressed.” But thanks to that horrendous PPD experience, I knew exactly what was going on with my otherwise carefree hubby.  So, I told him.  “You’re being too perfectionistic,” I said. “You’re holding yourself up to unrealistic standards and feeling terrible about a problem that isn’t really there.” He nodded. “I agree,” he said. But I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Because, unfortunately, diagnosing the problem and knowing how to fix it are two different things. So, this post is my way of deciphering how I was able to stop being a perfectionist parent and actually enjoy my kids.  Then, I’ll report back to my husband because he’s yet to read a full Chai and Sunshine article. And, in the meantime, I hope it helps you, too. 8 Signs of a Perfectionist Parent Before we dive into how to stop being a perfectionist parent, we need to understand the myriad ways perfectionism can manifest. Only once we understand the common signs of a perfectionist parent can we do something about it. And for anyone in denial or doubt, read these signs out to your spouse, co-parent, or kids. Ask if they recognise these behaviours in you. It might not be pleasant, but it’s the first step in lasting change. Here are 8 signs of a perfectionist parent.  Note: these tendencies can be either self-directed (not feeling like a good enough parent) or directed at the child (being hard on them so they can reach your high standards). You might find that it’s a little bit of both. You also don’t need to tick off all 8 signs to make some changes. 1. Unrealistic Expectations Setting unrealistic and often unattainable standards for yourself or your child. Not taking into account the present resources or abilities when setting these goals.  2. Constant Criticism Frequent or constant self-criticism for your perceived parenting shortcomings (or the “shortcomings” of your child). Focusing on your children’s mistakes rather than their accomplishments. 3. Comparing/ Competing with Others When you do set unattainable goals and standards, it’s often image-related or superficial. You may also compare your reality to what you see of other parents and their children. This may leave you feeling inadequate. 4. Fear of Failure/ Excessive Pressure You may have an outsized idea of what the consequences of anything less-than-perfect may result in. For example, “you will never find friends if you’re always looking so scruffy!” You may also have an unhealthy fixation on past mistakes. 5. Over Involvement/ Micromanagement Directing your kids’ or co-parent’s every action. Getting involved in their lives on a granular level. 6. Ignoring Emotional Needs Prioritising achievements and portraying a “perfect” image over the emotional needs of you or your child(ren). 7. Lack of Spontaneity No room for creativity or relaxation. Rigid rules and schedules for you and/or your family dominate your life. (E.g. nap times, dinner times, eating schedules or menus).  8. Living Through the Child Think “Dance Moms” or “Pageant Moms”. Projecting your unfulfilled dreams onto your child(ren).   Why It’s NOT Easy to Stop Being a Perfectionist Parent Breaking free from the grip of perfectionist parenting can be really challenging. (It sure was for me!) At its core, it’s deeply rooted in the desire to provide the best possible life for our children. But the fear of making mistakes or falling short can be paralysing. This often results in the very opposite of what we’re trying to achieve, reigniting the cycle of perfectionist control all over again.  But what makes perfectionism really hard to get rid of is that it’s often intertwined with our own self-worth. Because perfectionist parents often lack a strong internal compass, they are more susceptible to adopting external standards. This means striving for what society deems as excellent rather than listening to your own needs or those of your child. It may also mean getting caught in a cycle of comparison. We look at other parents and their seemingly perfect children, forgetting that everyone faces challenges behind closed doors. This often stems from various factors, including childhood trauma, complex post-traumatic stress disorder, insecure attachment styles, or underlying issues like undiagnosed OCD or other anxiety-related conditions. Breaking free requires awareness and a shift in perspective. It means learning to build authentic relationships with yourself and your children, rather than relating to yourself and them solely through achievements. How to Stop Being a Perfectionist Parent Societal pressures to achieve, coupled with personal insecurities, often fuel the perfectionist mindset. Additionally, it’s difficult to let go of the illusion of control. As parents, we crave the ability to shape our children’s futures, and perfectionism can feel like a way to exert that control.  The first step to overcoming these perfectionist tendencies is therefore self-awareness. Keep a diary of your thoughts and behaviours, paying close attention to all-or-nothing thinking and catastrophising tendencies.  Like when my husband said that we were “failing” because “the house is always a mess” and “we never give them proper meals”. These cognitive distortions often magnify the consequences of imperfections.  Along with this self-awareness, I recommend practicing deep curiosity about the roots of your perfectionism. Does your perfectionist inner voice sound uncomfortably similar to that of a critical caregiver?  Or maybe by aiming for perfection you’re subconsciously seeking validation from an absent or emotionally distant caregiver. Understanding these underlying drivers is crucial for breaking free from the perfectionist cycle. Therapy can be an invaluable tool in this process. A trained therapist can provide guidance, support, and strategies for managing perfectionistic tendencies.  By working through past experiences and developing healthy coping mechanisms, you can gradually release the grip of perfectionism