Make Some Noise with Andrea Owen

This week I talked about some pretty heavy stuff. At least it was heavy for me. Monday I talked about tolerations and shared with you some experiences that a couple of my past clients had had, as well as myself. Tolerating relationships that aren’t working for us and our decisions that followed.Tuesday was about apologizing. Or, rather what I call “roundabout apologizing”-- prefacing requests or hard conversations with the message of, “please don’t think badly of me for asking you to do this”.Then on Wednesday was the story about the Over the Line tournament, and me being humiliated by a stranger in front of people. And how that humiliation turned to anger, which turned to rage, what I did with it then and what I do with it now.Yesterday I read you a poem. True confession, after I read that poem I had planned to do a Facebook live, but I needed a break. My whole body was saying no, and I felt like I just needed to be still, burn some sage, and honor what I needed. That was a doozy for me and like I was talking about in the first week of the daily diaries, upleveling.Over the last couple of weeks I’ve created worksheets for you to be able to do the work in your own life. And this week I’ve decided to do something different. First and foremost, I’m inviting you to join me in Raise Hell. If you’ve been reading these emails (listening to these episodes) and they resonate with you, Raise Hell is probably the perfect next step for you to help you get ot the next level of your growth and your life. Everything I’ve been talking about over the last 3 weeks points to what we’ll be learning, discussing and claiming in Raise Hell.Second, I invite you to create a personal manifesto. A manifesto is a written statement declaring your intentions, motives, or views. It can be as long or as short as you want it to be. I’ve created some prompts for you below. You don’t have to answer all of them, but use these as a guide.I believe… I stand for… I am most passionate about… I am on this planet to… I was born in this time and space so that I can … I will love myself by… I have the courage to… I will take action on… The status quo I want to disrupt is… What matters to me right now is… What I know for sure is…I’d love for you to tag me on Instagram (@yourkickasslife) and post your manifesto! I can’t wait to see what you come up with!RAISE HELL IS OPEN! This 4-month online program is part course, part support group, part accountability group, and all around adventure that will take you from autopilot in your life, to taking action on the life you want. This is its pilot round, so there is an introductory price and tomorrow is the last day to grab that early-bird offer! Click here to join us. Get the tools you need to claim your life, set boundaries, and let go of things that aren’t serving you anymore.We start next week!http://yourkickasslife.com/214  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Dear World,I’m resigning today.Resigning from the job I was given to make you happy and comfortable.I don’t remember even applying for this job, but nonetheless, it was handed to me.Somehow, somewhere, a story was bestowed on me and my fellow females.That we have a job that is an ever so important one.That job has many rules and responsibilities.A short list of the musts:We must smile.We must be pretty.We must be thin.We must be compliant.And the must nots:We must not get angry.We must not age disgracefully (whatever that means)We must not use foul language.We must not show too much cleavage.We must not share our opinions too forcefully and if we do dare share them, they should not offend anyone nor be disagreeable.And if we MUST say no, we must explain ourselves, apologize, and do whatever deems necessary to make the other person feel as comfortable as possible with our no.As I turn in my resignation, I have three words for your rules.Fuck. That. Shit.Because I’m done.These rules have been for you.These rules have morphed me into an unrecognizable rag doll that serves no purpose except to make you comfortable.These are not my rules.World, do you know what abiding by these rules has done?Let me paint you a picture.When I was 16 I was pinned down on a beach, sand in my hair,While a boy I was on a date with forced open my pants,Shoving his hand down my underwear.When I told him no and to get off of me,He said he thought that’s what I wanted because I had let him kiss me.I liked him and with his obvious frustration I felt guilty and wrong for my decision to say no.He took me home and on Monday at school, I heard the boys laughing and “prick tease!”--Yelled through the hallways at me while people stopped and stared and whispered.I learned that day if I didn’t follow the rules, if I dared say no, there would be consequences.When I was 17 my boyfriend shoved my head down to his crotch as I suppose--An unspoken invitation to give him a blow job.I wanted to say no.I didn’t.I hated him while I did it.But, I didn’t want him to be mad at me.I knew how it went if I said no.When I was 20, I found myself laying under a guy I barely knew,Saying the word “no” over and over again as he continued to undress me.I could have pushed him off me,I could have said no more forcefully,But having known the rules, I worried he would get angry,Call me names, or worse, fight back.So, I relented to his advances and had sex with him even though every being in my body screamed no.Even though I acted like I enjoyed it, hoping that would help move things along.Even though I hated myself while it happened.All in order to make him comfortable and follow the rules.When it was over I sobbed and ran to a pay phone to call someone to pick me up.I knew how it went if I said no.This went on for another decade.Saying yes to men I didn’t want to,All in order to please them,To make them comfortable,To put their feelings before mine.To not emasculate them,To allow them to use my body as they so pleased.And this isn’t just about sex.It’s about everything we’re asked to do.We all fist pump when we hear “No is a complete sentence”,Read the rest of this poem HEREhttp://yourkickasslife.com/213 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It was the mid-90’s.A small group of friends and I went to the annual Over The Line tournament in San Diego, one of the city’s oldest traditions. OTL is known for its drunkenness, topless women, and just all-around debauchery. Some call it “Mardi Gras on the beach”. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people come out for this yearly event every summer and even though it was my first time going, I wasn’t afraid at all of the craziness we were walking into.My friends and I walked around, watched some of the teams play, and as the games wound down for the day, started to make our way towards the wide road which would take us to the main parking lot. Along that road were peoples’ Van’s and RV’s. Many of the RV’s had people hanging out around them and on top of them.As we continued to walk, I heard a man shout from about 30 feet away. “Hey you in the white shirt!” I looked up to the top of the RV and a good-looking guy about 25 or 30 was pointing at me. We made eye contact. He said, “You have a nice smile!” I smiled at him. He continued, “I’d like to cum all over it.”Laughter erupted. Time stood still for me. “What a dick!” one of my friends yelled. We kept walking. No one spoke of it again.I sometimes wonder what happened to him. The guy at the over the line tournament. The guy that used me to make himself look cool. The guy that I assume never thought twice of what he shouted to me and probably so many other women. I wonder if now, twenty plus years later he is the father of daughters. I wonder if he looks back on his youth and regrets some things he did and said. I wonder if he gives a shit.Because for me, my humiliation turned into anger and then turned into rage. Rage for my humiliation. Rage for the discomfort it caused all the people that saw and heard it. Rage for all the women who saw it who wanted to say something but couldn’t. Rage for all the women who saw it who didn’t care. Rage for the part of me who stayed silent. Rage for the fact that if I did say anything, it wouldn’t have really mattered. Rage for the fact that I knew this. Rage for all the times I had in fact shouted something back in retaliation only to met with something worse. Rage for the notion that “that’s what you get when you go to the Over The Line tournament”. Rage for living in a world where “that’s just how it is.”My rage wasn’t expressed that day. I stuffed it away with all the other emotions I didn’t know what to do with. I lashed out at my then-boyfriend. I gave the middle finger to any and all cat-calls I received. I was aggressive and was quick to be mean.And it wasn’t just him. It was years of sexual harassment, having my ass grabbed uninvited more times than I can possibly count, being cornered at parties and being afraid while I looked for an exit or a friend, being followed to my car, and being met with “that’s just how it is.”What does one do with that much rage?I look back on my behaviors that I’m not proud of and I know why. It came from a lifetime of feeling helpless. Of feeling like I don’t matter. Being told that’s just how it is, or worse, feeling like it was my fault.So, what do you do with that much rage?Read more HEREhttp://www.yourkickasslife.com/212  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This week has a bit of a theme, and that’s about Raising Hell. What I mean by that, is that culturally, we, as women, have been taught to act and behave a certain way, a way that is acceptable and a way that will have us be more well-liked. And not necessarily outwardly taught to be a certain way by our parents and mentors, but taught by what we see on a daily basis. This is messaging we’ve received our whole lives. And one of those things is apologizing.For instance, a few months ago I had to email someone who's not following through on their commitments and making my job harder. This person would fall off in the middle of an email conversation, and not answer questions I had. But, then start a new email telling me something or asking me questions. I even asked this person if there is another way we can do things to make our communication work better. They said no and things continue to fall through the cracks.I knew this was going to be an uncomfortable conversation, but I called on my courage and started an email where I was going to tell this person how I felt and be clear that I needed a solution. In drafting the email I found myself typing, "I'm not trying to be a diva about this..." and I stopped myself. I’m sure we’ve all either said this or emailed this. It might also look like, "I'm sorry to seem like a pain-in-the-ass..." or "Forgive me if this sounds overbearing..."This is what I call "roundabout apologizing".Raise your hand if you have done this? I've less and less said "Sorry", when I don’t need to be, but still the "I'm not trying to be blah blah..." In other words: PLEASE DON'T THINK I'M AGGRESSIVE, A BITCH, HARD TO WORK WITH, DEMANDING, ETC. The risk is more than just someone having this opinion-- the risk is that I could get a reputation for being this way.I edited my email to be kind, but still clear that I feel this person is not doing their job. Some people might think I'm a diva, or demanding, or whatever. But, I'm at the point where it hurts worse to apologize for something I don't need to apologize for than to risk being seen as whatever they make up I am.My challenge for you is to think about where you do this too. Just get curious and watch for it. I understand that in some situations, your job depends on you keeping the peace. And, maybe just having what I’ve talked about in this post run through your head will help you think about speaking up more in meetings, in your partnerships, and friendships. Whether you have an idea about something, you need something to change, or anything at all where the words need to move out of your mouth, or even in an email. I hope you consider having a throwdown with the old messaging we’ve come so used to having. Or even if you just get curious about it. Either way, it’s an act of raising hell.Raise Hell, the 4-month online program is open for registration. Join me and a group of amazing women as we break down barriers. What that looks like is values-based hell raising-- you getting clear on what’s important about the way you live your life and taking action on it. It’s about you learning how to set boundaries and have hard conversations. It’s about you letting go of the messaging and old patterns of thought about who you think you need to be and making room for who you want to be. Guided by me, we have weekly video calls, and built-in accountability. We start next week. Click here to join us.http://yourkickasslife.com/211  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Last year I had a few clients who were dealing with some “man problems”. In a nutshell, dating men who were unavailable to them. One was having a relationship with a married man, the other was on again-off again dating someone who had made it clear to her he didn’t want to commit.Both were in a pickle. This is what they were used to, it was their pattern. Whether the men were physically unavailable for the long term (married), or emotionally unavailable, these women just kept picking the wrong partners.Much science has gone into why we pick certain people. My favorite book on this is “Getting the Love You Want” by Harv Hendrix. Other interesting ones are “Attached: The New Science of Adult Attachment”  and really there are just too many good books on this topic to mention.But, what I want to focus on today is not just who they were picking-- which I think for many of us is an unconscious thing that happens-- but more specifically, what they were tolerating when they were already IN the relationship and knew their partner wasn’t good for them.Because so many of us have been there, right?Personally, I can vividly remember sitting in my therapist's office with my ex-husband who at that time was still my boyfriend. We were in our mid-twenties and he was not ready to settle down. He would regularly stay out all night, roll home drunk at 6 am when I never knew if he was off screwing someone else or dead in a ditch somewhere (turns out he was screwing someone else throughout the majority of our relationship. Many, many someone else's). After years of this and other disrespectful behavior towards me and many months of therapy, my therapist said to me, “Andrea, I don’t think he’s ready to change. You can either learn to tolerate it or leave.” He was sitting right there and he didn’t argue with her. We all knew it was the truth.Read the rest HEREhttp://yourkickasslife.com/210  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

On Monday, episode 205 I talked about making peace with unfinished business. The old parts of ourselves that may still need something like healing, processing, something to help us move on.On Tuesday, it was about when I went to visit my boyfriend in rehab and his fake cancer, and him cheating on me with Debbie and mostly that episode was about finding your motivation. Your catalyst for change. That post and episode was quite a doozy!Wednesday was all about the stories we make up about other people that we think “have their shit together”. People we put on a pedestal, people we think are better than we are.Thursday, episode 208 was about trying to figure out what it meant by “my life had become unmanageable”. (Spoiler alert if you haven’t listened: it’s about boundaries, emotions and communication.)Just like last week, I have a worksheet for that pertains to all the posts from this week, but first a bonus lesson! And it comes in the form of a story...Last November I sat on a video conference call with my Mastermind ladies. It’s a peer group of other coaches that support one another. Every month we meet and bring a topic we’d love support on. That cold November day I started with, “Okay, I’m about to introduce a new course to my audience, I really feel like it’s been in the making for ten years and is the baby of Your Kick-Ass Life-- the course that I was meant to teach. And I’m so scared.”Truth be told: I was afraid of teaching something that veered away from some of the deeper things I’ve been teaching over the last three years. Afraid to go back to basics. I was expressing my fear that my audience wouldn’t care enough about the topics. And when something means a lot to me, the acceptance of it matters.In other words, I felt like it was a huge risk.The thing about this program is that I had a download about it. It felt like the idea was dropped in my lap and there have only been a handful of things I’ve been this excited about since the birth of YKAL in 2010.But, I kept thinking... What if people read the info page and say…meh. What if people say no? What if it tanks? What if my download was wrong?Now, I’ve gotten past a lot of fear in my life. I’ve looked at fear, laughed at fear, studied fear...I feel like I have a pretty good idea of what it looks like in my life and can deal with it. But, what I know for sure, is the more passionate we are about things, the more we believe in them, the more we LOVE something, the more vulnerable we feel.So, as I ranted about this new course to my colleagues, Samantha asked me, “What does your audience love the most about you, Andrea?” And I said without hesitation, “They love that I tell the truth.” To which she replied, “Then stop pussyfooting around and tell them the truth.”Read the rest HEREhttp://yourkickasslife.com/209  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

I know many of you who listen to this podcast are sober in recovery, some of you are thinking about it, and many of you are normal drinkers or even non drinkers who don’t have a problem with alcohol. What I’m about to talk about is based on a saying from the “rooms of recovery”, but does not mean it only applies to us alcoholics. I believe it can apply to everyone.I want to talk about the term “my life had become unmanageable” and it comes from the first of twelve steps of Alcoholics Anonymous:We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.And to be honest, I always had a problem with the whole “life had become unmanageable” part because mine hadn’t. I had a great job I loved, a good marriage, two great kids, friends, and life was pretty good. Someone explained to me that it was my spirituality that had become unmanageable and that didn’t seem right either. I mean, sure, I had moved away from spirituality when I was drinking, but still. It was also explained to me that it was that my “insides” had become unmanageable, not my “outsides”. And since I had had the emotional shit kicked out of me in 2006, I for sure knew what it felt like to have my “insides” unmanageable. I felt like I had healed a good deal from that time in my life and didn’t feel as “unmanageable” when I got sober five years later as I had back then.In terms of being in recovery, not being able to “fit” into that, made me feel like my bottom wasn’t low enough and maybe I DID need to wait until my life was unmanageable to get sober-- my insides AND my outsides. (And that’s not a good place to be in terms of our thinking when we are newly sober!) I continued to ask people about this, people tried to explain it to me in their own way, and it never seemed to feel like it applied to my life. Until…I had a few years of sobriety and I realized how shit my boundaries were. And in the first couple years I realized how emotionally illiterate I was and that I had a lot to learn in terms of communication.“Ohhh, so it’s my relationships, emotions and boundaries that had become unmanageable.” I realized. I finally understood what it meant in my life.And again, you don’t have to be alcoholic, or a love addict, or an anything addict to have all that feel unmanageable. Feelings and emotions are crazy-tough sometimes and numbing out becomes easier. Boundaries seem impossible so people-pleasing and blaming become your go-to. Communication? No one taught us, so we don’t fight fair, we don’t own our stuff, and tend to be passive aggressive.Read the rest HEREhttp://yourkickasslife.com/208  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

If you follow me online (listen to this podcast), you probably also read a good amount of self-help books. Maybe books like:Wild, by Cheryl StrayedLove Warrior, by Glennon DoyleDaring Greatly, by Brené BrownBig Magic, by Elizabeth GilbertYou Are a Badass, by Jen SinceroAnd I’m assuming over the last couple of years you’ve read and recommended one or more of these books to a friend.All of these books I have read and recommend wholeheartedly. All these female authors I hold in high regard. And all of these women I know have pain and struggle just like you and me. But, maybe you think they don’t have as much as you. Maybe you hold them in high regard AND make up a story that they have their shit together much more than you do. Hell, maybe you think that most women have their shit together more than you do.Well, I’m here to tell you: “Having your shit together” is subjective. No one even knows what that means. Society and you have made up a story about that. So, check your expectations. And more importantly... Life is a path that we’re all traveling on. It’s long and winding, with ruts and obstacles along the way. As we move along it, we gain more insight and wisdom, and in my humble opinion, the more ruts and obstacles we run into, the more we get the emotional shit kicked out of us, the more insight and wisdom we gather. We’re all on this same path. The people who don’t give a shit about personal development and think you’re weird for it, typically don’t make it past the first couple of steps. That’s okay, that’s their thing in this lifetime. It’s not your job to force them farther along on the path.All those authors and personal development leaders are on your same path, they might just be farther along on it than you are. Some people move up quickly like in Monopoly when you get the card that tells you to jump ahead to one of the railroads and collect $200. And sometimes we take a few steps back.You don’t need to catch up, it’s not a race. You just need to do the work.On Friday, Feb 15th I invite you to join me for Raise Hell, which is a program that encompasses foundational tools to “get your shit together” (whatever that means), action, and accountability. It’s about declaring the woman you want to be and HOW to get there. It’s not easy to do this all alone. I’ll be there to guide you, plus an extraordinary group of women who are all on the same path rooting for you. We open doors on Friday. http://yourkickasslife.com/207  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

If you read my book you know that in the the opening paragraphs I talk about how I had an all-time low in 2007 when I found out I’d been conned by my boyfriend. He had lied about having cancer to cover up his opioid addiction and I was pregnant with his child. This, coming off the heels of my first husband having an affair with our neighbor and getting her pregnant was not great news for me.But, it got even worse.December, 2006: I confronted my then-boyfriend about his drug addiction. He admitted it and said he would quit. He did for a few weeks, which coincidentally is when I became pregnant.January, 2007: He was using again. We had just found out I was pregnant, and in sheer desperation, I called his family and told them everything. They asked me to get him home and they would have an intervention. The intervention took place and he agreed to go. I really hoped he would get clean and sober, then we could have our baby and live happily ever after.You know where this is going, right?He went to The Meadows in Arizona-- famous for housing celebrities like Selena Gomez, Whitney Houston, and Kate Moss and more recently, Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey. After my boyfriend had been there a few weeks, I was invited for family week.I participated in group therapy with strangers and their families. It was uncomfortable but to be honest, I was finally getting real with myself and looking at my own issues. I shared my shame stories, cried in front of everyone and was generally the most vulnerable I had ever been in front of a group of people. As I left, my boyfriend was acting weird. When I got home, I hacked into his email and found email after email from a woman named Debbie. Apparently, they were in love.Debbie was another patient at The Meadows. Debbie was in our group while I was there crying my eyes out. Debbie had sent one email to my boyfriend-- she had sent many, but this one was the kicker-- the one that lowered me to a heap on the floor…it said, “Is it bad that I think it’s funny that your girlfriend is in our group? I mean, what were the chances that we would all be grouped together!?”This woman was essentially laughing about the fact that we were together in a small group while we all talked about our deepest, darkest secrets.Needless to say the phone calls that followed were not pretty. That was my final straw with him. Not the opioid addiction, not the lying about cancer, not the conning me, but Debbie.Part of my motivation to change was her. I was was so determined to be better than her, to actually DO the work, knowing she had spent thousands of dollars on a fancy rehab and was not in fact doing the work. That, coupled with the fact that I was pregnant I knew I needed to get better. I needed to change.WHAT IS YOUR MOTIVATION?Did you or do you have a Debbie in your life? Many people say, “don’t ever do it for anyone else but yourself” and while I agree that’s true, I think there’s something to be said about looking at what motivates you. Do you want to be a better mother for your kids? Do you want to show your mother you will parent better than she did? Do you want to prove to your ex that you’re NOT in fact crazy and that you are the best version of yourself?Hey, again, it’s not about doing the work for someone else. It’s about grabbing on to whatever motivates you. Maybe you can use that as your catalyst. Eventually, that will fall away, you’ll see the changes you’re making and you’ll keep going.I honestly could give a shit about Debbie now. My recovery is for me AND my kids. I live my best life and work on myself first and foremost for me now. But, I’d be lying if I didn’t said in the beginning there a small part of me that wanted to prove others wrong.Tomorrow I’m going to be talking about “having your shit together” and your purpose as your path. Stay tuned!http://yourkickasslife.com/206  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

I called San Diego home for 36 years. 36 years of memories-- joyful, painful, and everything in between.And in the six years I’ve been gone, every time I go home, I’m hit with agony. And for a long time I didn’t know why. Nostalgia is a tricky thing. This one was such a mix of feelings and emotions, I didn’t know what they meant, if anything. Did I want to move back home? Was I angry that we left? I couldn’t make heads or tails of it all, but I knew something was happening.During the summer of 2014, we went home for a vacation and rented a house on the beach. This area, Mission Beach, held many, many memories for me. I went for a run one day and as I turned my head to look down the boardwalk at other runners, skateboarders, and early morning beachgoers, I thought to myself:Everything has changed, but it’s all the same.I had changed. I had evolved and grown dramatically. But, it all looks the same. And for some reason, when I step foot into this city, there’s a part of my heart that remembers. Remembers it all. And maybe...maybe that’s what I was trying to get away from when we left.When we left San Diego I was at the end of my drinking career. I had just admitted to myself, my husband, and a dear, trusted friend that I had a problem. I quit about three weeks after we left. So, when I go back home, I feel like there’s a part of me that still exists. An old ghost of myself that’s still confused, suffering, and lost. Looking for answers. Looking for a solution. Looking for peace.How do we make peace with our former selves? The parts of us that are still tormented, still brokenhearted?I think it starts by not running away from the pain, struggle and problems anymore. Looking at it all square in the face. Getting curious about it instead of shoving it down to the sub-basement of our soul. Being okay with the fact that peace might need to be made. Sort of easing into it like settling into your favorite chair. Letting go of thoughts like, “This is stupid, I should be so much better than this by now. It’s been years.”Because time doesn’t heal all wounds. Moving doesn’t heal them either. And I’m sure as shit that pushing it all away doesn’t heal us, it just puts it away for it to catapult back up when we least expect it.When we can dance with all of that, then the question becomes: Who do we want to be? What do we want our story to be? When we’re so used to the story of pain and struggle, when we make peace with all of that and sometimes walk away from it, what’s next?I know for me it’s been simply having more compassion with myself. Accepting that life is my teacher and I’m the forever student. That my path is my purpose. I want to be a woman who tells the truth not only to others but to herself.Because yes, everything changes and it’s all the same.http://yourkickasslife.com/205  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices