The goal of my Sanctuary: Write to Heal program is to reframe your story of struggle so that you can find healing within. Some people may ask, “But what does that mean?” As enrollment is open for Sanctuary from Sept 18-26, 2020 I thought I would use my own stories of struggle as an example.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN TO REFRAME YOUR STORY?

Growing up, I was a competitive gymnast. By the age of about 10 I was in the gym five days, 20 hours a week. I had near perfect grades the entire time. My mantra was work hard and you will achieve it. I carried this mindset, along with gymnastics and near perfect grades, all the way through college.

I believed the Hard Work mindset would take me everywhere I wanted to go. I had always logged endless hours at the library, risen extra early for class, and skipped social gatherings with friends.

Until senior year when my carefully laid plans of what my life would look like next went up in smoke. I did not get in to any of the graduate programs to which I applied. And there were a lot of them. I was mortified, baffled and ashamed. I couldn't wrap my head around how this had happened, why my mantra had fallen apart and failed me. 

Starting then, even inside of my rejection hole, I began to recognize that maybe the Work Hard motto wasn't serving me in the healthiest way. Was choosing work over everything else worth it if the outcome actually wasn't guaranteed? A dear friend who had weathered this time with me, had been trying to teach me a new one: If you look in the mirror at the end of the day and know in your heart that you tried your best, this is all you can ask of and expect from yourself.

As I said goodbye to that college town, found a job, a new apartment, and a little bit of my confidence again, I kept this tucked in the back of my mind. Mostly, I would feel like a fraud when trying it on, wondering why I would even put in the effort if I wasn't going to be guaranteed success. I had been focused on outcomes for so long that I didn't see the process as having any value. 

Reflecting on it now I see that this was my version of perfectionism. I learned it from gymnastics, where I was always after a better score, closer to the perfect 10.0. I learned it from home where anything less than an A on a report card brought disappointment from my dad. Then, I perpetuated these ideas. I focused so solely on getting “there” that all of my worth was tied into results.

Life gave me plenty of opportunities to challenge the if you achieve it, then you’ll be worth it motto. Marriage, working in academia. I mostly still focused on the outcome.

Then, I had kids. 

You can bet I read all the books and bought all the things. I planned and prepped and did all the work. Except that our baby apparently didn't get the memo. From the beginning she had her own plan, her own agenda that often clashed with mine. When I tried to put a bow in her hair, she would violently shake her head back and forth until it fell out. Trying to get her into her carseat was like WWF wrestling. Immediately when she started walking she refused to sit in a stroller or hold my hand while we walked. And, she was beautiful, whip smart, and had mastered the monkey bars earlier than any other kid I knew.

When she was 18 months old we got the crushing news that the new baby I was carrying, a boy, had a severe, life-threatening heart condition.

The world was telling me something. My carefully laid plans for who my children were going to be had been thrown out the window. I was still working extremely hard at this parenting thing, but my wheels were mostly spinning. The mom I wanted to be seemed so far out of reach. If I wanted to be that mom, and more importantly, if I wanted to find contentment within myself, something had to change. It was a slow, painful realization that it was me that needed the changing. 

I was trying the best I knew how. Deep down, I knew I could look in that mirror and tell myself that I was giving this my full heart. But the years of telling myself I was a failure when work hard and achieve it hadn't come through had really done a number on my psyche. I needed to simultaneously be easier on myself, re-claiming my self-worth, and make tangible shifts to be the mom my kids, and especially my daughter, needed me to be. 

I reached out for help, placing myself in my most vulnerable state. I clung to my closest friends, the rare diamonds who really got it. I wrote and wrote. I slowly came to understand that it was not within my control to determine exactly who my kids were going to grow up to be. I realized that even if my kids made bad choices it didn’t make them bad people. It didn’t make me a bad parent.  

It’s taken a lot (many years) of this processing to let go of this mindset. I am still quick to judge myself, but what’s changed is that I can quickly identify it and remind myself that I am worthy simply because I am human. I am not only worthy when I am succeeding or contributing.

This exhilarating and crushing society in which we live is hyper-focused on results. But if I can work to let go of the end result, even a little bit at a time, my world opens up.  I am freer and more mindful and compassionate. I learned that from a college friend many years ago. 

Interested in working with me to reframe your own story of struggle? Find out about my Sanctuary: Write To Heal small group program here.