“….and the wisdom to know the difference.”

This is the part of The Serenity Prayer I’ve been missing or, more accurately, not taking into consideration. But in order to take something seriously I have to make the connection of how it will affect me, and up until recently, last week actually, I didn’t get that “accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can” aren’t really going to effect positive change in my life until I know the difference between what I can control and what I can’t…. “and the wisdom to know the difference.”

When a blog entry takes longer than usual to write it generally means one of two things: I can’t relate to my topic or the topic hits too close to home.  The first one is much easier on my gut and the second one won’t leave my gut alone until I resolve it.  My gut is the barometer for everything in my life, it’s an inconvenient family trait.  For the past 2 months my gut has been on high alert and is trying to tell me something, unfortunately not with words so I’m left feeling sick to my stomach while trying to decode its’ messages.  The good news, to a WW member anyway, is that I can’t eat so I’m losing weight (that twisted bit of joy will have to be dealt with in another blog).  The bad news is it’s a painful process, which for me can only mean one thing: the topic is tied to self-worth.  Man, I cannot tell you how sick and bad-swear-word tired I am of writing about self-worth, enough all-freakin’-ready!  But, apparently not, and from talking and listening to many of you, self-worth rules your life too.  And so, once again, I must put my Super Power (never giving up) to work. Frank Sonnenberg: “Lessons in life will be repeated, until they are learned.”  Yeah, blah, blah, blah…sometimes life is like a never-ending quantum physics class for me.

Back to “….and the wisdom to know the difference.” Things I would tell a friend cannot be changed: the way life is right now, how other people think, what other people think of you, how other people act, the past.  Things I now realize I’ve tried my whole life to change:  the way life is right now, how other people think, what other people think of me, how other people act, the past.  Of course, logically I always known that’s impossible but on some level I must believe it, right? Otherwise why do I, sadly, continue to spend so much time trying to change/control them?  Do I believe if I work hard enough that anything is possible?  Yes, because that’s what I was told as a child by my Dad (and yes, I’m aware of the Dad thread through most of my writing) and I believed it. I decide the difference between what I accept I cannot change, and what I have the courage to try and change, by what I believe I can change. The problem with that is not all of my beliefs are based on fact, and most of them are not even mine, they were given to me as a child. Now that, in itself, is not bad, it’s just the way societies work, the elders hand down their beliefs based on their experiences.  It’s the way a child with no sense of self-worth will weave those beliefs into their personal story that is problematic.

In my family, public perception was everything.  We owned the grocery store in the village and from the moment we walked from our kitchen into the store what others thought of us was all that mattered.  It was important we were well thought of in the community. And, as I sit here struggling to write this piece, I’m ashamed, stunned and embarrassed to say how often that is still true for me.  I care too much about what other people think of me and that fact greatly affects my “wisdom to know the difference.” How does it affect me?  It affects me because I believe what other people think of me is more important than what I think of myself.  I was never taught to value my own opinion and even though, thanks to a lot of therapy, I’ve come a long way in self discovery and healing, in my core I’m still the little girl who was to be seen and not heard.  A child cannot develop self-worth if no one listens to them and then leads them to believe what they have to say matters. And once again, as I write the words that describe my experience, so many of your faces are coming to mind because I know I’m describing your experience too.

How long have you accepted the things you believe you cannot change because of your beliefs?  How long have you believed it was courageous to change who and what you are into what you were told was acceptable?  Are you a WW member because you believe your health is worth looking after or because you believe only by losing weight will you become lovable and worthy?  Is your self-worth based on what you believe others think of you?  Do you know the difference between what you can and cannot change?

“….and the wisdom to know the difference.”  From the time I was 10 I’ve been constantly trying to change myself into someone I believed was worth loving.  I often ask myself the question I’m so fond of asking you: so what have you learned? Here is what I’ve learned:  I’ve learned to question my beliefs; are they really mine and are they really true?  I’ve learned my opinion does matter, at least to me. I’ve learned I can be vulnerable and not die. I’ve learned, like everyone else, I am worthy of being loved.  I’ve learned I may think this is all rubbish tomorrow.  Could this be the beginning of wisdom at work?  Maybe.