Writing the Happier Approach was one way I could channel the all-consuming grief over my dad. I promised myself that if I were going to write a book, I would be 100% honest—no more pretending that something would work when it wasn’t working for me. I was going to own how hard self-acceptance was, how I didn’t understand what self-compassion means, and how both of those words were so overdone they had lost all meaning.
I know this sounds hokey, and if I hadn’t experienced it myself, I wouldn’t believe it, but as I started writing the Happier Approach, it just flew out of me. The characters, the methodology just showed up. And amazingly, my Monger was quiet. I believe this is because in writing the book, in being radically honest, I was practicing self-loyalty.
I wish I could say my Monger is gone, and I live a life free of self-doubt—but I would be lying. I can say, My Monger doesn’t hijack my day-to-day life as frequently or as long as she used to. Practicing self-loyalty and not running from my internal world is a game-changer.