(excerpt from my book)

Stop, Drop, and Roll

Do you recall the simple fire safety technique taught to children to minimize damage if their clothing catches on fire — stop, drop, and roll?

They’re told to stop, ceasing any movement that fans the flames. Then drop to the ground and cover their faces with their hands to avoid injury. Finally, they’re to roll on the ground or wrap themselves up with a rug to deprive the fire of oxygen, thus extinguishing the flames.

Well, that works when couples are on fire, too.

The minute I pledged that I’d figure out what was going on and turn things around, I decided to:

1.     Stop contributing to the fighting. Stop one-upping my husband. And stop escalating the arguments.

2.     Drop my neediness to avoid further injury when Shahriar distanced himself.

3.     Roll me in inner wholeness to deprive our arguments of oxygen.

That sounds great, doesn’t it?

Well, I know you’re chuckling with me, it was easier said than done.

Fortified with the image of Kara’s tear-streaked face and the echo of her mournful pleading, I did it.

Much to Shahriar’s surprise — and mine, too — I fought with him less. I reduced my salvo of needy behaviors while learning techniques to strengthen my inner wholeness.

Dear reader, I’d love to tell you this was an easy thing to do. But it wasn’t. And you deserve to know that.

There were many, many times that I didn’t stop. Didn’t drop. Didn’t roll. When I would be triggered, revert to my codependent self, and fall back down the rabbit hole.

But, after a good cry, I’d pick myself up and stop, drop, and roll again.

Every time I felt like giving up and throwing in the towel, I reminded myself why I was doing this — not just for Kara and my marriage. But to save me.