Conflict is inevitable—not because we're broken, but because we're human. Each of us sees the world through a unique lens, shaped by our Enneagram type. When we’re rested, grounded, and cared for, we can navigate life with awareness and grace. But when our bandwidth shrinks—due to stress, lack of sleep, emotional overload, or disconnection—we move into automatic patterns that often hurt us and the people around us.

Ever find yourself snapping at your partner, withdrawing from your friends, or spiraling in your head? That’s not just bad luck. That’s your nervous system trying to cope with more than it has capacity for.

Understanding how your Enneagram type responds to discomfort and stress is one powerful step in reclaiming your agency—and practicing growth, not just reaction.

So let’s ask the right questions:

• What do I need to know about myself when I’m under pressure?

• What do I need to practice to stay grounded, kind, and whole?

Sleep. Therapy. Connection. Nutrition. Movement. Support. Play. Purpose.

Let’s not hurt ourselves or others by ignoring the signs. Let’s choose compassion and care—especially for ourselves.

Below you'll find how each Enneagram type tends to respond under stress, and what growth looks like when we choose to live from awareness instead of autopilot.

Every June, we recognize Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month—but awareness isn’t enough. We need understanding. Empathy. And action.

I want to begin by saying this: I love men.
I have a partner who holds space with strength and tenderness.
A father whose integrity shaped mine.
Three sons who remind me daily of the courage it takes to grow up with heart.
And boatloads of men in my life—kind, funny, talented—who believe in justice, vulnerability, and doing the work.

These men matter to me deeply. And yet, the truth is—far too many are suffering silently.

The Alarming Truth

Men are facing a mental health crisis.

• Men die by suicide at rates 3-4 times higher than women.

• They are less likely to seek therapy or talk about emotional struggles.

• Substance use, isolation, and untreated depression are skyrocketing.

• Black, Indigenous, LGBTQ+, and veteran men face compounding risks due to systemic inequities and stigma.

These aren’t just numbers—they’re lives. Brothers, fathers, sons, friends. They’re the ones cracking jokes at dinner and showing up for the people they love… until one day, they can’t anymore.

In honor of Mental Health Awareness Month, let’s talk about something that impacts every relationship we have—how we handle conflict, and how the Enneagram can be a powerful tool to foster understanding, empathy, and healthier connection.

Relationships are central to our mental health. Whether we’re interacting with partners, parents, kids, coworkers, or friends, the way we navigate disagreement and stress can either support our well-being or increase anxiety and disconnection. That’s where the Enneagram comes in.

Welcome to what’s often called The Sandwich Generation—a season of life where you find yourself in the middle of two worlds, caring for aging parents while still actively raising children. You’re fielding calls from doctors and teachers, coordinating family dinners and therapy appointments, and trying—somehow—to still have a sense of self. It’s a unique pressure point where love, obligation, and exhaustion collide.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month, and there's no better time to pause and reflect. Not just on your to-do list, but on your emotional bandwidth, your needs, and your support system. Because the truth is, this middle space isn’t just about logistics. It’s deeply emotional, often confusing, and occasionally beautiful.

Thinning out my dad’s things is one of the most tender, overwhelming tasks I’ve faced in recent memory. It’s not just a matter of “stuff”—it’s a timeline, a museum, a story of a life. The Christmas décor in boxes that smell like dust and cinnamon. The four full sets of china, used once or twice at most. The hundreds of ball caps from every gas station, ballpark, and tractor supply store across the Midwest. Nails and screws sorted with care, fifty screwdrivers—some rusted, others brand new. Mugs from Mt. Rushmore, one shaped like a recycle bin, one that says “World’s Greatest Dad.” Souvenirs from every road trip: tea towels, candles, keychains. High school yearbooks and decades of sentiment packed into boxes, bags, and shelves.

It’s a sacred and exhausting ritual—deciding what is junk, what should be donated, and what is worth keeping. Each object must be touched. Considered. Felt. Does this bring me joy? Or only sentimentality? Is it honoring his memory, or weighing me down?

The process is more emotional than I expected. Because really, it’s not just about his things. It’s about change. Grief. Identity. It’s about honoring what was while making space for what is.

Pain and suffering are a part of life. This is not a pessimistic statement—it’s a truth that allows for profound freedom when accepted. Because once we stop resisting the reality that hardship comes for us all, we can begin to explore what it means to live through it, learn from it, and even grow because of it.

Resilience is not about avoiding pain; it’s about what we do with it.

Resilience is the ability to face adversity, overcome obstacles, and adapt in the face of significant stress or trauma. It’s the quiet, powerful force that enables some people to bounce back from heartbreak, loss, illness, or betrayal—not by forgetting or minimizing the experience, but by transforming it into something meaningful.

In her book Energy Rising, Dr. Julia DiGangi writes:

“The truth about pain is you can never eradicate it; you can only transform it. There is no energy on the planet that can be destroyed. Because your negative emotions are, quite literally, a neurobiological energy, they’re governed by the laws of physics; while energy can’t be destroyed, it can be transformed.”

Resilience, then, is not about being invulnerable—it’s about transformation. Turning wounds into wisdom. Turning mess into meaning.

Guilt can motivate us to make things right. Shame leaves us paralyzed, disconnected, and believing we are unworthy of love or belonging.

This difference became vividly real to me the morning my 16-year-old daughter proudly showed me her shiny new driver’s license—and later that same week, backed into our neighbor’s car.

First came guilt: “Oh no! I can’t believe I did this. I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for the damage.”
Then shame crept in: “I’m so stupid. What’s wrong with me? I’m a terrible person.”

Her body shrank. Her face flushed. Her eyes filled. I saw her move from a sense of I made a mistake to I am a mistake—and I knew we were no longer talking about a dented bumper.

So I reminded her: “Accidents happen. This is why Arnold Schwarzenegger sells insurance.” But more importantly, I reminded her of who she is—not what she did.

Because shame is not a necessary part of the human experience. Guilt? Sure. Responsibility? Absolutely. But shame? Shame is a lie that corrodes our sense of self.

For many women, anger isn’t absent—it’s just hidden.

It simmers beneath smiles, polite responses, and phrases like “I’m fine.” It hides behind stomachaches, sleepless nights, and over-apologizing. For generations, women have been taught—explicitly and implicitly—that expressing anger is unseemly, unladylike, and even ungodly.

This isn’t a new phenomenon. A 1987 paper presented at Harvard Medical School traced women’s inhibition in expressing anger to the pressure to embody selflessness and service—what some call the “feminine ideal.” In the religious system I was once part of, they called it sacrifice. The message was clear: suppress the anger, swallow the pain, and serve without complaint.

Next time you're in a loop of stress, try this:

• Look around for something that makes you smile.

• Say something silly—even if just to yourself.

• Rename your situation with absurdity. (I once called my inbox “the Bermuda Triangle of unmet expectations.” It helped.)

You are allowed to laugh.
Even in the middle of it all.

And when in doubt?

Just whisper: Jay Kay.

Knowing your Enneagram type can help you spot early signs of stress and take action before you spiral. When we’re stressed, we tend to default to fear-based patterns. But with self-awareness and intention, we can pause, reflect, and respond with more clarity, compassion, and courage.

Here’s how each Enneagram type experiences stress—and what actions can help restore balance:

A young man once asked his Lakota grandfather what the answer was to life’s difficulties.
The old man replied with a single word:
“Kihelakayo.”
“Keep going.”

This simple phrase carries profound wisdom—because life is both joy and pain, light and shadow. The call to Kihelakayoisn’t about denial or toxic grit. It’s about choosing to face discomfort head-on, with awareness, with intention, and with support.

I found myself slipping into his binary way of thinking: us vs. them, right vs. wrong, good vs. bad. But then, I remembered Adam Grant’s advice on becoming a better critical thinker:

1️⃣ Be 10% more skeptical of people you agree with—and 10% more charitable to people you disagree with.
2️⃣ Look for flaws in ideas you like—and strengths in arguments you dislike.
3️⃣ Learn from sources that engage with competing ideas.

The truth is, imposter syndrome can serve a purpose. It can push us to improve, to refine our skills, to seek deeper self-awareness. But it can also keep us stuck in a cycle of self-doubt, preventing us from owning our expertise and stepping into our full potential.

Beneath the layers of adult responsibilities, past traumas, and protective mechanisms lies a younger version of yourself—your inner child. This is the part of you that once explored the world with wonder, embraced vulnerability without hesitation, and held dreams so pure they could light up your soul. If you’ve ever felt disconnected from that playful, joyful version of yourself, it might be because that child is in hiding, waiting for a safe invitation to come out.

Have you ever felt like your thoughts, beliefs, or actions were headed in an unhelpful direction? As though you were caught in a loop, where everything you did or thought seemed to take you further away from where you wanted to be? I’ve been there.

"The expectation that we can be immersed in suffering and loss daily and not be touched by it is as unrealistic as expecting to be able to walk through water without getting wet. This sort of denial is no small matter. The way we deal with loss shapes our capacity to be present to life more than anything else. The way we protect ourselves from loss may be the way in which we distance ourselves from life and help. We burn out not because we don’t care but because we don’t grieve. We burn out because we’ve allowed our hearts to become so filled with loss that we have no room left to care." - Rachel Naomi Remen

"Burnout is an expectation to plan for instead of being seen as failure." - Jessi Gold

I remember the moment of clarity vividly: I was driving on the Mass Pike, grappling with the tension between my lived reality and the truths I was told to accept. The facts in front of me—the harm to myself, the strain on my children, the disconnect between my beliefs and my experience—were undeniable. For the first time, I allowed myself to pause and truly see. And in seeing, I understood: I could choose differently.

“Resilience is the capacity to face reality, and to act according to the data that you see in front of you.”
— Bessel van der Kolk

Social media is a powerful tool, but it doesn’t have to control our mindset. The key lies in shifting our focus from external validation to internal values, building a life defined not by comparison but by genuine, self-directed growth.

In our lives, there are certain truths or facts we’d rather not see. Maybe it’s the plight of the homeless in our own city or the reality of climate change, wealth inequality, or the dangers of addictive drugs. When we choose to ignore these issues, even if we know they’re important, we’re falling into a trap called scotosis—a kind of willful blindness or intellectual blockage. Scotosis can prevent us from making good decisions for ourselves and for society, and learning to recognize it can help us grow in wisdom, compassion, and accountability.