Lisa Adams Coaching

01/31/2026

01/31/2026

Psst…
Victims of childhood neglect often carry overwhelming fears of abandonment.

Not because they’re “too sensitive.”
Not because they’re needy.

But because childhood neglect is a form of abandonment.

You’re not making this up.
Your nervous system remembers what abandonment feels like —
even when your mind tries to minimize it.

That fear isn’t weakness.
It’s a learned survival response.

And it deserves understanding, not shame.

🧠💛

—
Inspired by Dr. Glenn Patrick Doyle ()

✨ Reflection:
What changes when you see your reactions as protection instead of pathology?

01/30/2026

When the time comes that you trust the timing of your life, something inside you finally exhales.

You stop replaying every “what if”
Every moment you thought you were behind.
And you begin to see the quiet work that was happening all along.

The waiting wasn’t punishment.
The pauses weren’t failures.

They were shaping your patience.
Strengthening your boundaries.
Teaching resilience in ways instant success never could.

What felt like being stuck was life asking you to grow roots
before reaching for more.

And when you look back, the delays will make sense in a way explanations never could.
You’ll realize you weren’t ready then —
for the responsibility, the love, the version of yourself that opportunity required.

The timing protected you, even when it hurt.

Trusting that truth doesn’t erase the struggle,
but it gives it meaning.

And in that meaning, you’ll find peace knowing:
nothing passed you by —
it was simply preparing you to receive what’s meant to stay.

✨ If this resonates:
Inside The Healing Collective, we support growth that happens at the pace of real life — gently, steadily, and with compassion.

🔗 Join here: https://bit.ly/4q1h7k5

💬 Comment “timing” if this met you where you are.

01/29/2026

You can wish someone well
and still choose distance
as an act of self-respect.

Letting go doesn’t always come with anger or resentment.
Sometimes it comes with clarity.

You can honor what someone meant to you
and still recognize that staying connected
costs you your peace.

Distance isn’t punishment.
It’s a boundary.
A quiet decision to protect your emotional well-being
without needing to rewrite the past.

Choosing space doesn’t erase compassion.
It simply means you’ve learned that love doesn’t require constant access,
and kindness doesn’t demand self-sacrifice.

Wishing someone well from afar is growth.
It’s knowing closeness is no longer healthy
and having the courage to step back anyway.

✨ Reflection:
Where might distance be an act of self-respect in your life right now?

01/29/2026

Psst…
Victims of childhood neglect often carry overwhelming fears of abandonment.

Not because they’re “too sensitive.”
Not because they’re needy.

But because childhood neglect is a form of abandonment.

You’re not making this up.
Your nervous system remembers what abandonment feels like —
even when your mind tries to minimize it.

That fear isn’t weakness.
It’s a learned survival response.

And it deserves understanding, not shame.

🧠💛

—
Inspired by Dr. Glenn Patrick Doyle ()

✨ Reflection:
What changes when you see your reactions as protection instead of pathology?

01/29/2026

When someone realizes you’re no longer an option, things often change.

Not because they suddenly understand you.
But because they can no longer access you.

You may notice:
• sudden charm or apologies
• attempts to provoke a reaction
• rewriting the story to save face
• pulling others into the narrative
• silence meant to regain control

This isn’t about love returning.
It’s about loss of influence.

When someone relied on your availability, empathy, or tolerance,
your boundaries can feel threatening — not because they’re wrong,
but because they work.

You don’t owe clarity to someone who benefits from confusion.
You don’t need to prove your worth to someone who only shows interest when access is removed.

Distance isn’t cruelty.
It’s self-respect.

✨ Reminder:
If your peace increased when you stepped back,
that tells you everything you need to know.

💬 Reflection:
What changed for you when you stopped being available?

01/29/2026

Join us in just over an hour for our Coffee Hour at 6:30Pm MST

This is a relaxed, come-as-you-are space to connect, listen, share (if you want), and spend time with others who get it. No pressure to talk. No fixing. Just community and conversation.

Whether you’re feeling chatty, quiet, curious, or tired—you’re welcome.

👉 Join us here:
https://www.skool.com/live/zFC9WSdszd4

Grab a drink, get comfy, and come hang out 🤍

01/29/2026

I know many of you want to help me right now, and I want you to know how much that means. Truly.
I don’t always know how to ask for what I need, so I’m sharing this in hopes it helps us understand each other a little better.

Grief is messy.
It isn’t linear.
Some days I seem “okay,” and other days I’m barely holding it together.
Both can be true — sometimes in the same day.

What helps me while I’m grieving:
• Checking in, even if you don’t know what to say
• Saying my loved one’s name and sharing memories
• Letting me talk — or sit quietly — without trying to fix anything
• Understanding if I cancel plans or go quiet for a bit
• Offering specific help (“Can I drop off a meal?” instead of “Let me know if you need anything”)

What makes this harder (even when it comes from love):
• Telling me I should be “strong” or that I’ll “move on”
• Comparing my loss to someone else’s
• Rushing my healing or putting a timeline on my grief
• Avoiding me because you’re afraid of saying the wrong thing

If I seem distant, please know it isn’t personal.
Grief can be exhausting in ways that are hard to explain.
Your patience matters more than you know.

You don’t need the perfect words.
You don’t need to make this better.

Just being here.
Showing up.
Remembering.
Listening.

That is more than enough.

Thank you for loving me through this season of my life — even when it’s uncomfortable or confusing.
I’m still me… I’m just grieving. 💙

✨ Gentle engagement:
If you’ve walked through grief — or supported someone who has — feel free to leave a 🤍 or share one thing that helped you feel less alone. No explanations needed.

01/28/2026

Change doesn’t usually feel clear at first.

It often feels like:
• discomfort without a name
• grief for what’s familiar
• doubt mixed with relief
• wanting forward and backward at the same time

Your nervous system doesn’t resist change because it’s wrong.
It resists because uncertainty once meant danger.

So if change feels heavy, slow, or confusing —
you’re not behind.
You’re adapting.

You don’t need to have the whole path figured out.
You only need enough safety to take the next honest step.

If you’re navigating change right now and want support that moves at your pace,
join The Healing Collective — a space for regulation, clarity, and steady forward movement without pressure.

💬 Comment “change” or send me a message if you’d like more information.

01/28/2026

Most of us spend our lives trying to manage how others see us.
Explaining.
Defending.
Overthinking.
People-pleasing.

Here’s the truth:
You will never control how you’re perceived.

But you can choose how you respond.

That pause —
between stimulus and response —
is where self-awareness lives.
Where growth happens.
Where freedom begins.

You don’t need to prove yourself.
You don’t need to convince anyone.

Just stay with yourself.

✨ Reflection:
What might change if you trusted your response more than others’ opinions?

01/28/2026

☕ Coffee Hour Reminder ☕

Just a gentle reminder that Coffee Hour is tonight at 6:30 PM MST.

This is a relaxed, come-as-you-are space to connect, listen, share (if you want), and spend time with others who get it. No pressure to talk. No fixing. Just community and conversation.

Whether you’re feeling chatty, quiet, curious, or tired—you’re welcome.

👉 Join us here:
https://www.skool.com/live/zFC9WSdszd4

Grab a drink, get comfy, and come hang out 🤍

01/28/2026

Most people assume dismissive avoidants are triggered by chaos.
By drama.
By “too much.”

They’re not.

They’re often triggered by normal, healthy relationship behavior:
• consistency
• communication
• emotional closeness
• accountability
• being needed
• being seen

Because when intimacy was never safe,
connection can feel like control.

So they don’t always flee chaos.
They often flee connection.

Not because you did something wrong.
Not because you were demanding.
Not because you asked for too much.

But because closeness activated something old —
something that once required distance to survive.

If this resonates, it wasn’t your imagination.
And it wasn’t because your needs were unreasonable.

✨ Gentle reminder:
Wanting consistency, care, and connection is not “too much.”
It’s human.

💬 If this helped you make sense of something you’ve lived through, you’re not alone.
Awareness is often the first step toward clarity — and healing.