On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you hate disappointing others?
If I’m honest, my number is still higher than I’d like to admit. Recently, I found myself locked out of a work system—one I hadn’t logged into for a long time. When I asked my manager to help me regain access, she responded,
“You must not have logged into the system in a very long time.”
She was right. This particular system simply never made it to the top of my priority list. The past year was filled with health challenges, surgeries, and working my way back to a new rhythm. I genuinely forgot about it.
But her message set off a whole cascade of self-critical thoughts:
- “I should be more on top of things.”
- “I’m letting people down.”
I felt ashamed. If only she understood everything I’ve endured.
By the time I ran into her in the hallway, I apologized for creating more work for her. And that’s when she shared that her admin—who usually handles these things—is out for the holidays. She was feeling overwhelmed, too.
In the end, we decided it could wait a couple more weeks. No urgency. No frustration. Just two humans trying to juggle life. And yet…my reaction had been so much bigger than the situation.
Marc and I are taking our small group through the HWL Church Group Study. During the skill-building breakout time, as I shared some emotions from my day, I brought this up—and talking it through helped me uncover something deeper.
I realized that the intensity of my rumination wasn’t actually about work at all. It was about loss.
Losing my dad suddenly when I was only seven years old—and not having the support to properly process that grief—created a kind of emotional amputation. It’s not a wound I notice that aches daily, yet it still shapes the way my nervous system responds to certain moments. Disappointment, disappointing others, and even the fear of it, run deep.
Even though some situations are small and manageable, the child in me still remembers the pain of being left, of feeling not enough, of longing for connection. Naming that connection—past to present—was freeing.
I hadn’t been open to talking about the loss of my dad until recently. But while being vulnerable isn’t always comfortable, being known is deeply comforting.
If you’ve ever wondered why certain moments bother you more than they “should,” or why a small comment can ignite a big emotional reaction, you’re not alone.
Often, our present-day triggers are connected to old, unspoken stories. Understanding begins when we trace the thread back to its source—and when we do it in the safety of trusted relationships where we receive comfort, that’s where healing occurs.
An Invitation to Grow with Others
- If you’re ready to explore these deeper patterns…
- If you want to understand why certain hurts run so deep…
- If you’re longing for healing, connection, and tools for emotional growth…
Consider starting a How We Love small group using our Church Group Study.
A safe circle of people—growing, learning, and healing together—can be the beginning of powerful and lasting transformation.
Our latest bundle is for up to 10 participants to take the Church Group Study for just $199—That’s nine weeks of study for less than $20 per person!
🙌 Thank You for Growing with Us
Thanks for being part of the How We Love community.
Keep learning, keep loving, and keep growing together.
With love and blessings,
Marc & Amy
Milan & Kay



