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One of the most painful patterns I see, both in my own life and in my work with clients, is this
we often end up sabotaging the very thing we want most.

Nowhere is this more true than in romantic relationships.

We long for connection, security, belonging, intimacy.
And yet, without realizing it, we behave in ways that quietly undermine those very desires.

Let me show you what I mean.

First example.

I once worked with a client who was reflecting on his friendships with other young men when he was younger. What he wanted from those relationships was completely understandable
security, belonging, identity, validation. He was looking for models of healthy masculinity and hoping to feel anchored in a group.

What actually happened was the opposite.

Those friendships didn’t just fade. They ended painfully. He was bullied. Pushed out. Shamed. Everything he had hoped to gain was taken from him.

As he looked more honestly at his part, something important became clear. He wasn’t truly present in those relationships. He had an unspoken end goal. He was there to get something rather than to be something.

That wasn’t a moral failing. It was all he knew how to do at the time.

This is one of my favorite phrases from recovery
info, not ammo.

This awareness wasn’t something to beat himself up with. It was information. And it changed everything.

Second example.

A friend of mine in recovery often explains this pattern through the lens of our instinctual drives. We’re wired for things like security, reputation, and belonging. Those drives are not the problem.

But when they get out of balance, or when we act from fear around them, we often sabotage ourselves.

Take reputation, for example. If we’re desperate to be seen a certain way, we might exaggerate, embellish, or outright lie. And eventually, when the truth comes out, the very reputation we were trying to protect is damaged.

The thing we wanted most becomes the thing we destroy.

Third example.

This one shows up constantly in romantic relationships.

Many of us carry a deep fear of abandonment. We don’t want to be left. We don’t want to be discarded. We want to matter.

And yet, without realizing it, we abandon ourselves.

We ignore our needs. We silence our truth. We shape shift to keep the connection. And when we do that, abandonment is baked right into the relationship.

Because we aren’t really there.

The real us never arrives. And so we often find ourselves drawn to people who abandon us in familiar ways.

The very thing we fear becomes the thing we recreate.

Read the rest at your own pace here.

Featuring work by Beatriz Olson, MD

In Unmuted — The Return of Color, Beatriz Olson presents a body of work that traces her journey back to voice, embodiment, and the full spectrum of color that once lay quiet beneath the demands of culture, profession, and expectation. As a Cuban immigrant, physician, and woman shaped by systems that reward discipline and invisibility, Olson learned early to mute aspects of herself in order to navigate the world. These paintings reveal the moment of reversal—when inner wisdom rises, when color becomes medicine, and when the feminine body and spirit reclaim their place as sources of knowing. The exhibit will be on view from February 6 - March 1, with Opening Reception and Artist Talk on Saturday, February 7, 2–5 p.m. A Closing Reception and Artist Talk will be held on Sunday, March 1, 2–5 p.m.

Across three interwoven series, Olson explores the architecture of womanhood, the atmospheric spaces of interiority, and the luminous power of abstraction. Anatomical echoes, meditative figures, and fluid portals of color invite viewers into a space where the body is sacred, intuition is intelligence, and spirituality emerges as a form of healing. Her palette—at times bold, at times tender—maps the emotional terrain of a life spent caring for thousands of women, listening to their stories, and witnessing the resilience held in their bodies. 

In these works, color becomes a conduit for transformation. Through abstraction and symbolic form, Olson creates pathways for reflection, stillness, and generative discomfort—the kind that expands rather than contracts, that illuminates rather than obscures. Unmuted is both personal and universal: a declaration that the feminine, in all its complexity, radiance, and depth, deserves to be seen, honored, and held in the light.

Beatriz Olson is Cuban immigrant who evolved to be an artist, physician and author. Her work involves holistic approaches to healing the body mind and soul distress by using color, form and lack thereof to process emotions. Art has a way of soothing us and giving language to that which we cannot name consciously or unconsciously but affects us deeply. She has been a performance artist at Pechkucha Events in New Haven, and been part of CWOS for more than a decade.

The Unmuted exhibit is free and open to the public. City Gallery is located at 994 State Street, New Haven, CT 06511. Gallery hours are Friday - Sunday, 12 p.m. - 4 p.m., or by appointment. For further information please contact City Gallery, info@city-gallery.org, www.city-gallery.org.

I once had a conversation with a sponsee who was sitting with a knot in her stomach. That conversation has stuck with me for years, and I’ve used it in coaching sessions with my clients.

She’d gifted a significant amount of money to one of her adult children. Her older child had always been financially independent. Paid their own way through college. Came up with their own down payment. Never needed rescuing.

Her younger child had a very different history, including mental health issues. Over the years, my sponsee spent a lot of money getting the younger child out of trouble. Bailing them out. Saving them. Trying to help.

What she was worried about wasn’t the money itself.

It was this question: What happens if my younger child finds out I gifted the money to their sibling?

That question opened the door to a conversation that feels especially important when we’re talking about romantic relationships too. The difference between privacy and secrecy.

At first glance, they can look the same. Both involve not telling someone everything. But emotionally, they come from very different places.

Read the rest at your own pace here.

Book Launch & Reception for Linda Cummings: Slippages
Sponsored by Yale University’s Center for Collaborative Arts and Media (CCAM)

A Book Launch and Reception celebrating the release of Linda Cummings: Slippages will be held on Thursday, January 29, 6:30 pm – 8 pm. at Yale University’s Center for Collaborative Arts and Media (CCAM, 149 York Street, New Haven). The wine and cheese reception will include an Artist Conversation with Linda Cummings facilitated by Elise R. Morrison, Ph.D. Assistant Professor of Theater, Dance, and Performance Studies at Yale, who authored an essay in the book. A limited number of advance copies of Slippages are available for the event, but must be preordered by January 27, see details below.

“Slippages is spot-on. The photographs are magnificent – suggestive, humorous, heart-breaking, beautiful,” says Ellen Schwartz Harris, former Executive Director, Aperture. “They sing, shout, whisper and everything in between while suggesting the entire spectrum of female experience.”

Slippages is a landmark publication of photographs by Connecticut Shoreline artist Linda Cummings, published by Skira. The book showcases 70 high-quality duotone images spanning the decade between the millennium (1992 to 2002) and the waning of analog photography. Cummings’ compositions toss expectations to the wind, transposing gender dynamics with a slight of hand. The images convey Cummings’ innovative approach to photographic narrative through actions performed and photographed by the artist on site, in locations is varied as steel mills, coal mines, churches, hospitals and stadiums, many long since disappeared. The photographs express the artist defiance, exuberance and anxiety amidst the upheavals of a declining industrial age and dawning of the digital era. Cummings’ thought-provoking photographs are complemented with an introduction and four essays that extrapolate ideas from Cummings’ work and consider how social controversies then resurface today as the rights of bodily autonomy and gender identity continue to be challenged. All photographs were taken on site with an analog 35-mm manual film camera and printed by hand in a dark room with no manipulation post capture. Slippages was recently featured in events at Rome University of Fine Arts and the Tokyo Art Book Fair.

ABOUT THE ARTIST

Linda Cummings is an artist / photographer with a studio along the Farm River in East Haven, CT. In addition to her gallery representation in New York City, Cummings has collaborated with the Fred Giampietro Gallery in New Haven, CT, and has created audio–visual photographic exhibitions and installations at the Smilow Cancer Hospital of Yale New Haven. Recent commissioned projects, inspired by Cummings’ interest in perception and natural phenomenon, incorporate trans-illuminated light through large scale installations of photographic glass. Examples of these commissioned projects include the Ark Doors at Temple Beth Tikvah in Madison, CT, a skylit glass photographic artwork installed in the Hope Chapel at Gaylord Hospital in Wallingford, CT and an interior corridor and ceiling artwork of illuminated glass in the newly renovated residential Towers in downtown New Haven, CT.

Linda Cummings has held artist talks and presentations of her artwork and philosophy on the intersection of art, creativity and healing at national and international venues including the Whitney Humanities Center of Yale University and the Yale Medical College. She co-authored, with artist Katy Martin, "Beauty, Longing, and Fear” a chapter in the publication Making Sense. Beauty, Creativity, and Healing by Bandy Lee, MD., Nancy Olson, MD. and Thomas P. Duffy, MD. (eds) of Yale University. (Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 2015)

In addition to her creative art practice, Linda is active on the board of the Friends of the Farm River and Estuary, a local environmental group acting as catalyst for projects engineered to restore ecological health and abundance to the Farm River, which flows from North Branford through East Haven and Branford to the mouth of New Haven harbor.

Preordered copies of Linda Cummings: Slippages cost $45.00 and must be purchased by January 27 to pick up at the event. Order books online under Book: Slippages at lindacummings.com (tinyurl.com/slippagesbook), or from Grey Matter Books by phone at 203-553-3180 or in person at 264 York St, New Haven.

The event, sponsored by Center for Collaborative Arts and Media (CCAM), is free and open to the public. There is meter parking on the street or you can park across the street at the Chapel-York Garage (150 York St) or Crown Street Garage (213 Crown St).

For more information, please visit lindacummings.com or contact the artist at cummingsphoto@gmail.com.

I Thought I Was a Great Communicator. I Was Wrong.

For a long time, I believed I was excellent at communicating.

Before recovery, I was a program coordinator at Yale University, managing complex initiatives across as many as 25 schools at a time. I kept information flowing between administrators, educators, partners, and stakeholders. Things ran smoothly. People knew what they needed to know. Deadlines were met.

So I assumed that meant I was a great communicator.

What I didn’t realize was that I was only good at communicating about work.

Interpersonally, especially in close relationships, I was a mess.

I communicated indirectly. I talked to people who weren’t actually involved in the situation. I hinted. I circled. I beat around the bush. I expected people to know things simply because I had decided they should know them.

And when I didn’t understand what someone meant, instead of asking a clarifying question, I filled in the gaps myself. Usually with a story where they had bad intentions and I was about to be hurt, dismissed, or taken advantage of.

That way of communicating quietly wrecked my relationships. Romantic ones especially.

Recovery changed that. Not because I suddenly became “better” at communication, but because I was forced to practice it differently.

Read the rest at your own pace here.

True Haven is a housing stability and reentry support program serving individuals returning home from incarceration, as well as family members of individuals who are currently incarcerated.  This program addresses a reality we see far too often: people coming home or supporting loved ones without stable housing, financial stability, or adequate support, putting both individuals and families at risk.

True Haven focuses on three core areas.

First, housing stability. We help clients obtain and maintain safe, stable housing during critical transition periods. This can include eviction prevention, and, where applicable, financial assistance. We view housing as the foundation; without it, everything else becomes more difficult.

Financial empowerment.
We provide financial education and individualized support to help clients build budgets, understand credit, and make informed financial decisions. Many participants are rebuilding after long periods of instability, and we focus on practical, realistic tools that support long-term success.

Third, trauma-informed support.
Reentry and family separation are traumatic experiences. True Haven integrates trauma-informed principles across all services and includes Trauma-Informed Trainings for community members and partners. We prioritize dignity, trust, and empowerment in every interaction.

What truly sets True Haven apart is our individualized approach. We meet clients where they are and tailor services to their specific needs, goals, and barriers. There’s no one-size-fits-all path to stability. Our housing counselors walk alongside each participant as they navigate difficult systems.

We also believe strongly in collaboration. True Haven works best when agencies collaborate, and we value partnerships that enable coordinated referrals and shared support.

True Haven is currently accepting new applications and welcomes referrals and partnerships with agencies serving individuals affected by incarceration, housing instability, or financial hardship.

True Haven helps individuals and families move from crisis to stability—and toward opportunity. We’d love to explore how we can work together to better support the communities we all serve. 

I had a conversation with a newcomer in recovery recently that landed like a perfect case study for romantic relationships. It was one of those moments where two lessons I teach all the time showed up in real life, fully formed.

Those lessons are:

1. Let go of your expectations of others and meet your own needs.
2. Stop making things mean things that they don’t.

Here’s the situation.

She and her boyfriend recently broke up and decided to try again. As part of that, she’s sometimes staying over on weekends in the home they used to share.

One of the problems they’ve always had is that even when they lived together, they didn’t actually spend much quality time together. Life got filled with logistics. Chores. Managing the household. There wasn’t much romance, and there wasn’t much attention paid to the relationship itself.

And no relationship survives long term without attention, affection, and care.

But there’s one issue that keeps coming up over and over:
The bathroom.

She wants him to clean it. Not just clean it, but clean it to her standards. And not just clean it, but want to clean it.

Read the rest at your own pace here.

As popular mistrust of expert opinion grows, we increasingly encounter the following skeptical argument about science: Historically, even well-established theories and findings have been overturned; therefore, science can’t be trusted because it will eventually change again...

https://www.nytimes.com/2026/01/05/opinion/science-trust.html

In January, City Gallery present FRAGMENTS, a group show featuring Meg Bloom, Joy Bush, and Phyllis Crowley. The fragments — echoed in the constructed poem above — include the visual perspectives seen in each of the artist’s individual works but also as they relate to each other and to the visual experience of the whole, of being and creating in this world. FRAGMENTS will be on view from January 9 - February 1, with an Opening Reception on Saturday, January 17 from 2-4 p.m. (Snow date: January 18, 2-4 p.m.)

Meg Bloom, Joy Bush, Phyllis Crowley are long-time members of City Gallery. Meg Bloom’s artwork, past and present, consists of handmade paper sculptures from kozo and abaca fibers. Some have added pigment, many have embedded plant matter, or anything else she can get her hands on. Additionally, she also creates mixed media collages and installations. Finding beauty in the imperfect, acknowledging moments of change, and engaging with the process of transformation form the basis of her work. Her art references nature, whether human or otherwise, and attempts, metaphorically through layering process and form, to address the broader social and environmental issues.

Joy Bush is a photographer based in Connecticut. She grew up near New York City and as a child she loved family excursions to NYC museums and theater productions. After graduating from college she discovered the magic of photography, and bought herself a Pentax Spotmatic camera. Eventually employed as a university photographer, she documented life on college campuses while developing personal bodies of work. Her photography practice involves gathering evidence: weaving autobiography with fiction. Through her personal wandering, many series have emerged, yet the one overall thread of her trajectory is paying attention to easily overlooked, obscure circumstances that have occurred prior to her arrival. In her exploration throughout the day, she captures circumstances that curiously suggest something happened or is going to happen and while humans are not physically present, traces of their actions are intriguingly omnipresent. For decades she has witnessed, embraced, and communicated joy, solitude, peace, disruption, abstraction, and irony through the photographic image.

Phyllis Crowley grew up in New York City and started photographing when she was eleven years old. She learned by taking pictures, looking at pictures, experimenting, attending workshops and reading everything she could get her hands on. She began her career working with film in a traditional black and white darkroom. The new digital technology made it much faster and easier to work with multiple images, a major interest, and move between color and black and white. She has taught at Norwalk Community College, the University of Bridgeport, and now at Creative Arts workshop. She is a member of City Gallery in New Haven and Silvermine Guild in New Canaan. She exhibits nationally and has twice received an Artist Fellowship from the Connecticut Commission on the Arts. Her work is in public, corporate, and private collections.

The FRAGMENTS exhibit is free and open to the public. City Gallery is located at 994 State Street, New Haven, CT 06511. Gallery hours are Friday - Sunday, 12 p.m. - 4 p.m., or by appointment. For further information please contact City Gallery, info@city-gallery.org, www.city-gallery.org.

January is a time when many people quietly take stock of their romantic relationships.

Not just whether they’re partnered or single, but how they show up inside connection. How much they give. How much they tolerate. How safe they feel being fully themselves.

One pattern I see again and again, especially among thoughtful, capable, caring women, is this:

We carry invisible contracts into love.

These contracts aren’t conscious, and they’re rarely questioned. They sound like:

• If I love enough, this will work out.
• If I choose the right person, I’ll finally feel safe.
• If the relationship fails, it must mean I missed something.
• If I’m truly devoted, I should be willing to sacrifice.

Most of the time, we don’t realize we’re operating under these rules. They live under the surface, shaping what we give, what we excuse, and how much of ourselves we’re willing to put at risk.

Here’s the truth I want to offer at the start of this month. Read the rest at your own pace here.