I knew almost immediately that I was pregnant with my third son. Intuition, gut instinct, whatever you wanna call it. 14 years ago it was strong! And 14 years ago, not only was it strong, but when I felt it, I had the strength to listen to it, without hesitation.

I’m not sure when I started losing both – my gut instinct and the confidence to listen to myself. But somewhere in the last fourteen years, I did. And in losing both, a lot of internal conflict has ensued and therefore stress endured. And really, in losing both what I mean is, losing the ability to believe in myself and trusting myself.  It’s been a challenge I’ve been working to charge through.

Without my gut instinct fully functioning these last few years, it has been hard to make decisions. I constantly seek out advice from others – exhausting for me and my circle. I make more bad decisions than I used to. I feel less confident, less safe even because I don’t feel protected by my red-flag meter.

And then when I do have an inkling of a gut instinct / knowing what I truly deeply want, but won’t listen to myself, I still struggle making decisions. I go back and forth constantly doubting myself and make no progress. Well I make progress – driving myself bonkers that is!

All this said, there is one area where my gut instinct has started to come back online. Where I know exactly what I feel. My awareness that my “gut instinct” needs some love and attention. So that is what I have been doing. Learning to believe in myself again. I’m making progress ever so slowly and can’t wait to share how with all of you. It hasn’t been an easy task, but it’s one I’m willing to work on because it’s something I want to show by example to all my kids so on their birthdays they can look back at their year and say,

“Yep, I had a good year. I believed in myself and led a life I loved that was true to me.”

Happy Birthday kiddo #3. You remind me daily to be true to me. You also make me laugh when I desperately need it and for that, I am forever grateful.

Sending you all warmth today and a reminder to be you!
The Orange Rhino

–> Part of yelling less is being in a good spot when an annoying moment happens. Part of being in a good spot is having less internal conflict. This post might not seem to be about yelling less, but it truly, deeply is. I am writing slightly differently, but trust me, if you are following to learn to yell less, all messages will take you there.

Join us in The Orange Rhino Community for support finding your inner voice and yelling less in the process!

© 2023 The Orange Rhino

Where The Orange Rhino went…
Part 1: The Internet Wins
Part 2: A Second Chance
Part 3: 2016

* * * * *

I will not be sharing much more directly about my divorce out of respect for my children and their father. And well, because that is a past chapter and it is time to focus on the new chapter!

I will say this though, divorce is a loss on so many levels. Lost partner. Lost family. Lost friend and friends. Lost dreams, a lot of dreams. It is a loss that is not truly or widely spoken about. It is often dismissed, the grief that comes with divorce. But let me tell you, it is real and deep and it doesn’t just go away overnight. Or after six years. Grief shows up when you least expect it to and when you don’t want it to.

It shows up in aisle four at Home Goods – when you are shopping to pass the time without your children and you see a serving platter for entertaining and think how perfect it would be, only to remember, “Wait, I no longer have a husband to entertain with or really people to invite over.”

At a soccer game – when it is still early and awkward and uncomfortable and want to share joy over a son’s goal like when you were married.

In the grocery store – when you go to pick up something you used to get for your partner only to remember that ingredient is no longer needed in the house.

When scrolling Facebook – and you see all the 15-year anniversaries, all the odes to wives and memories built and memories to come, and you look at your finger and no longer see your wedding band.

When cleaning up old boxes – and you find the love letters you wrote to each other back in the day and wonder, how did we lose this?

I could go on and on. In the minivan. At the doctor. On the couch watching a movie. You name a place and time, and grief over my divorce has probably come unexpectedly and unwanted. Still.

Yes, the loss of a marriage and the dreams that came with it cuts deep.

And it is more than loss. With the loss of my marriage, came a shitload of shame, and again, more feelings of failure. I felt embarrassed by my divorce, by being divorced. People avoid the subject like it’s the plague. Very few people acknowledged it. And when I tried to talk about it, the conversation was often short. So, I didn’t really talk about it a lot, still don’t fully share the depths of pain and sadness and shame. It was, it still is lonely at times.

I felt like a true failure and honestly, still do. How could I do this to my kids? How could I have not kept my marriage going? How come I am the only one I know who doesn’t know how to have a successful marriage? How come I couldn’t keep the one thing going I dreamed of in my life for so long? How come I couldn’t make it work?

My divorce gutted me and somedays I feel like the knife is still in there, twisting away, even though it was the right thing for us and our family. Truly.

But that doesn’t take away the pain.

And it certainly didn’t give me strength back in 2016 when I was trying to return to being The Orange Rhino. Or in 2017. Or in 2018.

While I started to feel better in 2018 and really pondered getting back to writing, I had come to the point where I worried it was the point of no return. You know what I mean? The point when someone calls you and you forget to call them back and then too much time has passed and you feel bad/weird/awkward calling? (Or is that just a me thing?)

I didn’t know how to come back AND I was scared to come back. Scared of looking silly for disappearing, scared of more negative comments, scared of well, let’s be honest, writing.

This past summer. I was enjoying the beautiful day, walking along, looking at the flowers and the blue sky, feeling the warm sun against my face when all of a sudden, bamn! I was crying. Something was said in the podcast that triggered a totally unrelated thought. I was crying because it hit me –  not only did I not show up as The Orange Rhino because I didn’t know how to after so many years, but also, to be brutally honest, I was more than empty inside back then, part of me had felt dead inside.

The part that was alive was mustering up all energy it could to be the best parent that I could be in the moment, under the circumstances. The part that was alive was just trying to survive, just trying to stay afloat. The part of me that was alive was friggin’ exhausted. To say the very least. And the part of me that was alive, damn well knew that if I started journaling, if I started writing about my pain and sadness and grief, that I would sink.

I couldn’t afford to sink. I had to be present for my lovely, loving boys. I simply had to keep so much bottled up so that I get out of bed every day, so that I could show up. I simply could not admit to my full range of feelings or I wouldn’t be able to show up in the way I wanted or in the way my kids needed.

Now mind you, the way I was showing up wasn’t even that beautiful. But I showed up. And I learned what the word “grace” really meant and what the saying “I am doing the best I can in this moment, right now, that I can” really meant.

I used that word and that saying, consistently. And I showed up, consistently. (And maybe that is why that parenting advice about being consistent with boundaries and rules and consequences and all bothers me – because sometimes just being consistent in showing up is a feat in itself, a feat worthy of being honored.)

But, with all of this sh*t bottled up, and despite giving myself grace and knowing I was doing my best? the part that was alive and showing up? Well, I was yelling. There were days that I didn’t honestly even have the energy to change or care because I was yelling as little as I could and that was my best – in the moment. After the negative comments about my ability to not yell,

So yeah, writing scared me. Writing meant truths would come out and I didn’t want to face them. I didn’t want to write about my yelling given the commentary about me being a fraud and a failure and I didn’t want to write about my aching heart, my broken spirit, my grief. So, I avoided writing like the plague, just as talking about my divorce was ignored, perhaps even more. But I avoided more than writing. I avoided The Orange Rhino altogether.

Writing is only part of The Orange Rhino world. I could have very easily have showed up and posted old tips, old stories. I could have very easily have still supported all of you and enjoyed that immensely. Except for one thing, one major road block.

The Orange Rhino didn’t just remind me of someone who is determined and choosing not to charge with words, but to remain calm, loving and warm when provoked and triggered. No, at that point in time, The Orange Rhino reminded me of all the harsh words that had been thrown at me and it readily reminded me of my marriage and well, now my divorce.

My EH was woven into so many memories of The Orange Rhino. The note he wrote after I completed day 1 of not yelling. The orange flowers I received on day 365 of not yelling. The frequent texts reminding me I could do it, that I just had to get the kids to school and then the day would be easier (oh did mornings suck when they were little!!) The book launch party when “Yell Less, Love More” came out. The time in our lives when we were a family of six. My marriage ended as The Orange Rhino community had already slowly started fading. The two endings were infused together in my mind. How could I return to one, when the other I couldn’t return to? So, again, fear won and I stayed away.

I even stayed away from the color orange for a long while. Truly hated seeing it. I hated seeing my book, The Orange Rhino image, my blog. As I sit here now, writing, figuring it all out as I type, I think it was easier to hate the color orange than it was to focus on what I hated about my divorce. I could close the door on The Orange Rhino and be done. I couldn’t close all doors to my EH because we still co-parent together. So, I closed The Orange Rhino door, kind of.

The Orange Rhino wouldn’t let that door fully slam shut. Instead, The Orange Rhino stayed in my mind and quietly listened and just wouldn’t leave me be, even when I wanted it to! I wanted to shut down the blog, but couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted to throw out the orange clothes, but something made me hold on. I wanted to let go of the trademark on The Orange Rhino, but part of me refused. No, The Orange Rhino firmly and confidently remained on my mind all these years, even after all the negativity I threw around. Yes, The Orange Rhino confidently remained calm, patient and loving despite being triggered and provoked by me.

Whoa! Hhmm, I just freakin’ realized that. Goosebumps, seriously. Full circle moment and I am at a loss for words. The Orange Rhino, Orange Rhino’d me!

So, I guess, The Orange Rhino never really left after all. The Orange Rhino stayed so that when I was ready, I could stop yelling at myself and my life so much.

So that I could return energized and determined to remain calm, loving and warm when provoked by my children and now also, when provoked by my life and…myself.

AND so that I could return to this amazing community. Thank you for still being here and for reading my story, for giving me a place to put it. I feel better already just getting it out. I feel lighter and freer. Again, thank you. 

If you missed it…
Part One: Internet Wins
Part Two: A Second Chance

* * * * *

Since 2015, I have felt guilty and disappointed and ashamed for just basically dropping The Orange Rhino blog and community. I don’t quit when the going gets tough, it just isn’t me. I might take little breaks, but I don’t quit (unless it is a bad situation to be in.) Except here I basically did.

For seven years, The Orange Rhino has been in my head, nagging me with her presence, taunting me with her presence. Not like she did in my early Orange Rhino days when I was trying to not yell – then, then her presence was welcomed. Then she would say kind things like, “You got this! You can do this without yelling! I believe in you. It’s possible. Way to go! You did it!”

No, no, no, I wish this is what The Orange Rhino had been saying to me these last seven years!

But no, the last seven years? Well, she didn’t say anything mean per say, she just has hung out silently while my brain yelled at her not so nicely for she, me, didn’t have the energy and determination to charge forward with confidence towards, well, anything! So, the negative thoughts came and came and came…

There were the ones about being a quitter…
“Why are you quitting? You don’t quit.
Come on, just write again. Do it already.
Are you really going to let all your hard work just go?”

I tried so hard to challenge this narrative but it was really hard to because well, the evidence at the time was that I indeed, was a quitter. So, these negative thoughts about being a quitter stayed and kept me away.

And there were the ones about essentially being a loser…

“Are you really going to let those nasty comments get to you?
Just let them go already. Why can’t you? What’s wrong with you?
Maybe those book reviews and comments were right. Maybe you are ridiculous. Maybe you have nothing good to offer, nothing good to share.
Maybe those emails from the non-supporters were right, you share too much negative stuff about your life.

You are not an inspiration, you just bring people down.”

I tried so hard to challenge this narrative too, but unfortunately, I truly believed most of the thoughts because well, the commenters weren’t far off – I didn’t have anything to offer. Forget not being able to offer the “right” content they were seeking, I couldn’t offer anything because I was EMPTY inside. Freakin’ empty. I had nothing to give. I had nothing inspiring to say. I couldn’t even inspire myself to not be a quitter, how could I inspire anyone else? And I was learning in real time that sharing about my true feelings about what was going on in my life made people leave, so I certainly didn’t want to offer up my truths here and lose out more. So those negative thoughts about being a loser stayed and kept me away.

And then, then there were the negative thoughts about being a fake, a phony, a failure.

“Why are you yelling again? Why can’t you stop? Don’t you even care?
You wrote a book about not yelling and here you are, not following your own book.
You are a failure.
You are a letdown.
You are a FRAUD.”

And these thoughts? These thoughts I couldn’t challenge at all. They were loud and were being yelled at me constantly. Why? Why did they have such power? Because there was one comment out there, one comment that hit me on such a deep, personal level that it ever-so-easily latched on to my own thoughts, just giving them more staying power. That comment? It more or less was,

“even The Orange Rhino can’t actually stop yelling. She said she could, but she couldn’t. Go here and read how she failed at her own goal.”

Blech. This comment?  This made me feel like a freakin’ fraud in a way I never had; it made me feel worthless. Why did this hit me so personally compared to all the other negative comments out there you ask?

Well, the person who wrote what they did, who shamed me for yelling again, didn’t know why I finally broke and yelled.

They didn’t know the real deep, painful and personal reason why after 520 days of not yelling, I “broke.” They didn’t know I was broken at the time. They didn’t know the heavy secret I was carrying, the struggle I was having, the immense pain I was in on day 520 and that I still felt in 2015 when they made the comment.

 

Oh, and they also clearly didn’t read my book title or my book which was about self-forgiveness and how being perfect isn’t the goal and that at the end of the day, it is all about yelling less and loving more. (Nope, not bitter lol)

No, this commenter didn’t know that the reason I yelled on day 520, and the reason why I couldn’t find the strength or determination or confidence to rise above all of my negative thinking and the negative comments out there was because…not only was I already feeling like a pretty failure in the Orange Rhino world – I was “failing” at keeping my blog and book alive, I was “failing” at continuing to not yell, I was “failing” at providing the right content and meeting readers expectations  – but also I was “failing” at

My marriage.
My marriage was failing.

And I was devastated.
And my soul was destroyed.
And I barely had the strength to show up for my kids.

So yeah, the comment pierced me to my core. My feelings of being a fraud, a fake, a phony, a failure just escalated. It was as if I someone kicked me while I was already down. No kind of, actually, that is exactly what happened. I was down on the ground from the weight of the marriage boulder I told you all had grown a little in 2013 but that now in 2015, it had grown a lot. I was just too afraid to tell you all then, because well, I didn’t want to admit that the boulder was so big. I wanted in to be a little pebble I carried around.

But it wasn’t. It was heavy and obvious and couldn’t be missed. It couldn’t even be tripped over. It made you fall down. Repeatedly.

That heavy marriage boulder wasn’t the only thing keeping me down. I did my best to get up, to move forward with confidence, but every time I literally tried to be The Orange Rhino – for the sake of my sons, myself, and my family, something in life made it harder. Something would happen that needed all my energy and attention and focus…something that made it hard to take care of myself, to warmly manage my reactions. My son was really sick. Then I tore my ACL, got a blood clot, and literally needed to learn to walk again. Then my other son needed more support from me.

And then finally, after my struggling kiddo was doing better and I was walking more confidently, it all came crumbling down. My feet were knocked out from beneath me

My body, my marriage, had held together long enough to get my youngest through his medical stuff and my other through his stuff, and me through my physical stuff. But it was over.

My marriage was over.

My now ex-husband moved out in April 2016.

I know divorce is far too common so maybe saying that I am divorced and that is my big “story” seems like nothing. But let me tell you, it isn’t. Unless you have walked in the path of being divorced, or had a front row seat of someone going through a divorce (and even then, it isn’t a full experience) it is hard to fully grasp the depth of pain that can come from a divorce – even one that is mutually decided on.

Yes, our decision to divorce was mutual. It was the right choice for us. We worked really hard for several years to get our marriage to where we each wanted and needed it to be. But we both ultimately knew that our kids deserve two happy parents and we could both best be happy and be the best parents we could each be by no longer living as a married couple, but by living separate lives.

And yet, oh does it fuckin’ hurt even to this day. Six years later this month.

My ex-husband (EH) moved out on a Friday late in the month. I still remember that night way too vividly. Not the part where we told the kids – that is a blur, a moment not to be remembered. But the moment when he officially left our house for his new place, when he walked into the garage and into his car. I stood by the hood of my dirty minivan watching him get in his car, slowly backing out of the garage. When I heard the click of the garage door starting to come down, I too came down, but much more violently. I collapsed down onto the hood and pounded it while the tears began to pour out of me. My face became covered in dirt from the car as I screamed “Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Please don’t leave!” Even though it was a joint decision, it was painful nonetheless and even that is an understatement. I slid down the hood and fell into a heap on the garage floor, landing right besides three bags of trash. Which is exactly how I felt in that moment. Like trash. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. And then it hit me, “I have no one to even help me up off the ground. I am alone. I am all alone.”

Turns out I wasn’t alone.

Bless my childrens’ hearts who at the time were 9, 7, 6 and 4. I went to bed that night – all alone in a huge king bed – except that I wasn’t. There were two little bodies in it when I got there J And when I woke up, four little bodies had brought me breakfast in bed. Breakfast of champions I might add. Strawberries, blackberries and raspberries with whipped cream and they even attempted to make me coffee. Breakfast even came with a cut out heart with their names on it. It was impossible not to cry, but happy tears this time! They brought breakfast for them too, popcorn! Then they all got in bed and my oldest said,

“We thought you might want to watch one of your movies this morning. So, we decided to watch Frozen with you.”

And at that moment, like Olaf does when the sun comes out, my heart melted. The love these boys showered me with that moment, even when they too were writhing with pain and sadness and confusion, will never be forgotten.

Part 4: The Aftermath of 2016

(c) The Orange Rhino, 2022

(Here is Part 1 from November 10 if you missed it!)

Part of ensuring that I am more likely to respond with a warm voice instead of a harsh yell is to ensure that I do not carry a lot of sh*t around with me. Like my dog Hope, I am freer and happier when I let that sh*t go. So it is important to me, as I fully re-engage here in The Orange Rhino community that I fully share why I started disappearing in 2015. Today is the day because I have had enough of carrying it around for seven years.

But first, I am an organized person and feel the need to just put a quick timeline in place for perspective.

2012: The Orange Rhino Challenge to not yell for 365 days starts and this community is born!
2013: I celebrate one year not yelling in February; five months later in July, I yell.

2014: “Yell Less, Love More” comes out – along with lovely support from you all and negative not-so-support from those who don’t know my style or my blog or my background.

2015: I start disappearing.
2016: I really disappear.
2017 – 2018: I really want to come back…but just can’t find the ability to do so.

2019 – 2021: I really, REALLY, want to come back, I tell myself, but still can’t find my way. Something was holding me back, keeping me from the key board. I know that part of the reason was that if I dared to write, I would write about 2016 and I wasn’t ready to fully acknowledge that year of my life. I couldn’t. Just couldn’t.

2022: I finally start to realize through years of therapy and self-reflection, that The Orange Rhino, while a positive place that I want to be, also started carrying some real negative memories and has some real negative ties to it. It almost became a slightly traumatic place for me as it triggered some of my little traumas in life and has ties to something that happened in 2016.

September 2022:  The Orange Rhino returns.

November 2022:  I announce the upcoming release of my audio version of my book. Which is exciting and scary as hell based on what happened in 2014/2015. But I also see it as a gift from the universe. I learned in April 2022 that it might happen. I was shocked. My book hasn’t been selling as much because well duh, I haven’t kept the community going for seven years!  Why now? The answer basically was, why not? My publishing company has a new approach for creating audio books and somehow, lucky me, Yell Less and Love More was chosen.

For seven years at this point, I have been wanting to get back to The Orange Rhino. Seven years of wanting to do something, but not. Seven years of fear and regret. Seven years of not being able to find the strength to show up, not being able to find the courage to overcome the negative memories. Oh, so many negative memories embedded in The Orange Rhino.

And then, voila! A true, honest to goodness gift from the Universe.

A second chance. Repeat. A. Second. Chance.

A chance to come back as The Orange Rhino.
A chance to come back and face my history and no longer let it suck my energy out.
A chance to come back and take control over how The Orange Rhino story goes.

A chance to come back and no longer regret how my book release went in 2014, no longer regret dropping the ball and the community after the book released, because, I now have…

A better chance to keep the energy going after this audiobook release because I am now better equipped to do so emotionally.

Oh, and lest I forget, I also have…

A chance to come back and keep growing as a person, keep learning how to not let negative comments get to me, keep learning how to remember the positive, keep learning how to love myself more so I can yell less at my kids.

A chance to come back to an amazing, supportive community.

AND a chance to really get back to not yelling so much.

I have always believed in second chances. And I am grateful for this one. This second chance has given me the strength – it has forced me to acknowledge the last seven years and move forward from them.

Halleluiah because these last seven years – while many, many wonderful things have happened  –  they have also held me back. Or did they? Perhaps they didn’t hold me back, but allowed me to stand still, get some roots down and grow?

Which leaves me with another tip to yell less: change the narrative! Note I didn’t say ignore the negative. See the negative. Feel it. Allow it to be real. And then as soon as you are ready (which might not be immediately and that is okay!), change it so that it doesn’t change your mood and your ability to respond warmly when triggered.

These last seven years have been cruddy…AND incredible.

These last seven years I didn’t move forward as I hoped in some areas…but I learned a lot staying still that will propel me forward now.

These last seven years I yelled more than I liked…but I also taught my kids a lot about forgiveness to others and ourselves. I taught them about how being imperfect is okay. I taught them about how my yelling isn’t because of them, but me. I taught them that while yelling isn’t okay, it does happen and what happens afterwards is super important.

And, I taught them, am teaching them, that it is never too late to do something. It is never too late to change. To go after a goal. To try again. To keep trying. I am teaching them to be determined. I am teaching them to be warm and calm to THEMSELVES when provoked by others.

In other words, I am teaching them to be Orange Rhinos, and isn’t that ultimately the goal?!

Thanks for reading and being here, Part 2 is coming. It turns out I have too much too say hahahaha.

Here’s to telling yourself a positive narrative today, about yourself, your life, your children, and your childrens’ behaviors! (A narrative switch for today. Switch “my child isn’t listening or behaving” to “My child is having a hard time listening and ‘behaving,’ there must be a reason, something is making it hard.” Then work together to figure it out and if you can’t, work together to lighten the mood – laugh, play, sing, dance, watch the dog go to the bathroom and trot away, whatever works!

* * * * *

“Yell Less, Love More: How The Orange Rhino Mom Stopped Yelling at Her Kids – and How You Can Too!” available where you buy books! Audiobook coming in January 2023.