The Serenity Prayer is not just for recovering alcoholics. It contains empowering truths for all of us. We need to know the difference between what we can change and what we cannot change.  We need to have the courage to change the things we can, the strength to accept the things we cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference.

For a long time, I didn’t know the difference between what I could and could not change.

I thought my beliefs could change things that were unchangeable, such as my son’s physical disability, my husband’s struggling business, and my personality. Now I know that my beliefs cannot change biology, economics, or inherent character traits. But I was young then, and I thought, “If I believe I can, then I can,” just as the main character in the children’s book, The Little Engine That Could, believed he could huff and puff and pull himself and his cargo up a large mountain in spite of being a tiny train without much horsepower.

By the time I reached midlife, I realised there were some things I could not change no matter how much I believed I could. I was an introvert who would never gain energy from being surrounded by people no matter how many books I read, seminars I attended, or hypnotherapy sessions I underwent. The sun would rise in the east no matter how badly I wanted it to rise in the west so that it would beat down the warmth on a particular side of my house and fill my rooms with natural light. Furthermore, I could not change the basic needs of a romantic relationship, no matter how much I believed I could.

There was a deep security in being married

My boyfriend didn’t want to marry me

I thought I would be OK with my boyfriend not wanting to marry me.

I had spent my entire life as a married woman until I experienced a midlife crisis and left my family to pursue a romantic relationship with another man. Women who had survived similar crises told me that I should negotiate with my lover the terms of our romantic relationship. I did not. So, when my lover said he never wanted to get remarried, I didn’t think much about of it. After all, my first husband too had said he never wanted to marry and yet we ended up married for over 23 years. Why wouldn’t my lover be the same way? After all, he was a man, and aren’t all men the same in romantic relationships?

That was my belief.

After my divorce came through, I realised I did want to get married again. I had spent my entire adult life cradled and coddled in a stable family unit in which the members all cared for one another. There was a deep security in being married. What I didn’t know at the time was that the need for security was a woman’s greatest need in a romantic relationship. It was a biological need that could not be changed.

After three months of this push and pull in our romantic relationship, we hit a wall

But my boyfriend did not want to remarry. He had stated his intentions upfront and was dismayed by my sudden change of heart. What I didn’t know at the time was a man’s greatest fears in a romantic relationship were to feel inadequate and controlled. My sudden desire to remarry felt controlling. It appeared to him as wanting more than he was willing to give, which left him feeling as though he was not good enough for me.

After three months of this push and pull in our romantic relationship, we hit a wall. If nothing changed, we would have to break up. But we loved each other; why were we so miserable?

I didn’t give up

That’s when I realised there are things you can change through your beliefs just like there are things you cannot change. I just had to have the wisdom to know the difference.

Since I could not change how my boyfriend and I were biologically wired, I would have to change something else. If my boyfriend’s greatest relationship needs were to feel in control and adequate, then I would have to meet those needs. If my greatest relationship need was to feel secure, then my boyfriend would have to do things to ensure my security.

If my boyfriend outlived his life insurance policy, then I would be back to feeling insecure

I was, naturally, able to relinquish control in the relationship, having been trained by my father at a young age on how to let a man be the leader in a family. But I wanted a man who would open doors for me, pay for dinner, and make love to me all night. My boyfriend didn’t open doors for anyone and although he did pay for dinner, he no longer had the biological desire to have sex every day. He was older than me and wanted only companionship. He wanted a girlfriend whom he could create memories with.

Insecurities abound

I had to change my beliefs about what traits constituted a good boyfriend. Was it more important for him to open doors than it was for him to be kind? Was it more important for me to be taken care of than it was for each of us to take care of ourselves? Did I have to have sex in order to feel loved?

My boyfriend, on the other hand, struggled with the ability to make me feel secure. When I explained to him why I suddenly needed to be married because it provided the security I needed as a woman, he offered an alternative. He would change the beneficiary of life insurance policy from his ex-wife to me. That way, if he died, I would not become homeless. At first, it seemed like a viable compromise, but then the life insurance policy only extended for a handful of years and would not be renewed. If my boyfriend outlived his life insurance policy, then I would be back to feeling insecure. I could be kicked out of the house I shared with him at any time because I did not own the house jointly with him. I was just a girlfriend who had no legal rights to anything that was his because I was not married to him. And the tension between us grew.

If you change your beliefs, you can change your life

For a long time, I tried to bridge the gap for him. I bought a wedding ring and pretended we were married to create a false sense of security so I could continue peacefully within our romantic relationship.

Still, deep down, I continued to feel insecure.

My moment of epiphany

One night, after another fight, I blurted out, “None of this would be a problem if I felt loved enough.”  If I could feel loved, then I could feel secure. I would no longer need to be married. He nodded in acknowledgement.

My belief of “I need to be married” had changed to “I need to be loved.”

Over the next few weeks, I noticed several things had also changed. When we were shopping, my boyfriend asked me to setup a joint account for the rewards points at the grocery store. A month later, he added me to his video rental account.

Slowly, my boyfriend took steps to show me that I was loved and included in the long-term picture he had for his life. It never would have happened if I hadn’t changed my belief about what I needed in order to feel secure. If you change your beliefs, you can change your life; you can get your needs met; you can find happiness.

Now, I no longer wake up at 3am worrying about my boyfriend dying after his life insurance policy expires. I sleep soundly and trust the future because every day, in every way he discovers another way to show me that he loves me.

The post How I saved my love life by changing my beliefs appeared first on Complete Wellbeing.

It was a recurring thought—as persistent as the rain pounding on the roof of our tiny apartment during the worst winter storm the Russian River in California had experienced in years.

The thought surfaced at every tiny task I tried to accomplish: as I struggled to Velcro the tabs on the vinyl cover of the cloth diaper, when my baby cried and I could not comfort him, when my breasts were too swollen to release the milk my baby tried to suckle, and while I paced the narrow hallway rubbing my baby’s back trying to get him to burp so he could finally fall asleep.

My husband did not struggle with parenting as I did. He knew instinctively how to change a diaper, how to comfort the tiny person who had been thrust so mercilessly into a foreign world, how to massage my breasts to get the milk to flow, and how to ease a gas bubble from the pit of the baby’s stomach to escape from his mouth so the relief of sleep could finally overcome him. The natural joy my husband experienced as a father left me feeling inadequate and alone.

I was a clumsy mother fumbling for a way to fit into my son’s life

Before my son was born, everything had come easily to me. I earned good grades. I was the first to be promoted. With each success, I gained confidence until I felt invincible. But this baby—with its urgent need to be fed, clothed, and loved—derailed my confidence and cast me into a gulley of self-doubt. I constantly waffled between what I should or should not do, unable to remain firm with any course of action. Practice didn’t make me feel any more comfortable. I still compared myself to my husband. Why couldn’t I handle the task of parenting with the same poise?

The more I doubted my ability to parent, the larger my insecurity grew. My son seemed to sense my unease. He responded with more cries, more discomfort, more pleas for the father who knew exactly what to do and when to do it.

The turning point in my life

By the time my son was 15 months old, he was diagnosed with multiple disabilities. My son’s neurologist said, “Don’t blame yourself. There was nothing you could have done differently to prevent any of this. He was born this way. Our job is to find a way to help him develop to his full potential, whatever that potential is.”

For some reason, the compassionate conversation with my son’s neurologist sparked a tiny voice in my mind that whispered, “You can do this. You are the best mother for him. You can help him be whoever he is meant to become. Just trust yourself.”

That positive thought was the first step in overcoming self-doubt and gaining confidence.

Confidence is our greatest personal resource, according to Marci G. Fox, PhD. In her book, Think Confident, Be Confident, Fox writes that we can face any situation knowing we can handle it if we have confidence.

Everyone suffers from self-doubt at one time or another. The key to overcoming it and gaining confidence is as simple as changing your self-talk, believing you are capable, and finding the courage to risk trial and error in your journey to develop the skills you need to become successful.

“When you become aware of a negative thought, stop it,” personal coach Lynda Noppe said. “Then reframe it to a more positive reflection.”

My recurrent thought, I’m not a good mother, became, I’m the best mother to help my son.

But self-talk is not enough to overcome self-doubt. You need to take action. “Inaction leads to frustration. Frustration leads to anger. Anger prevents you from achieving your potential,” according to Noppe. “If you continue your efforts and do not stop, you will notice a change in the way you feel about yourself.”

My first action was to educate myself about my son’s disabilities. Although I couldn’t fly across the country to attend one-on-one sessions with developmental specialists, I could read about their lesson plans in their books and practise them with my son in our living room. That’s how I taught my son how to take his first step when the orthopedic paediatrician said my son’s leg muscles were too weak to ever learn how to walk.

I celebrated the success by taking pictures of my son’s first steps and phoning my husband at work. If you have uncertainty, you might dismiss your accomplishments. To develop self-assurance, you need to stop and give yourself a pat on the back.

There is always learning in every failure

With each tiny victory, my self-doubt shrunk and my confidence grew. I started to trust myself as the expert instead of looking outside for validation and direction. That doesn’t mean everything I tried worked. It means I learned from everything I tried. When a therapist suggested I thrust my son’s hands into a bucket full of sand to lessen his tactical sensitivity, my son responded by tantruming. I grabbed him tightly and suddenly he calmed down. That one failed attempt unwittingly became another victory, for although my son didn’t respond to the sand box therapy, he did respond to my extra-tight hug. I got rid of the touch-and-see books full of different textures and replaced them with deep tissue massage to deactivate my son’s sensitivity.

That magical space called Intuition

Eventually, I learned to trust in my experience and my feelings. When a specialist made a suggestion, I no longer agreed if it didn’t feel right. By stepping away from doubt, I had learned to trust my intuition, that magical space where we know what is right without having to logically explain it to anyone. When we trust our intuition, we act on hunches that take us farther than we ever believed was possible. Trusting my intuition led to the courage to ask for the therapies and treatments I felt would work best for my son even when the experts disagreed with me.

My son is grown now. He still wears diapers and speaks less than 50 words, but he loves music, going to church, and being tickled. Each day we experience something new on our adventure together.

I am a good mother.

The post Am I a good mother? appeared first on Complete Wellbeing.