My son and I were in the car one night when he started to tell me of an argument he had with his father.

He was very hurt by his father’s actions and wanted to know why people said and did hurtful things.

I felt so bad for him.

He adored his dad and I knew that during the divorce, things might be said and done that could hurt my son.

I knew that I was powerless over my husband and his actions… that I could only work on things from my end… and so I told my son that I had never much liked the fact that we were powerless over other people.

He smiled.

I could tell that he was happy that I felt the same way that he did.

I said that I knew that his dad loved him very much but, that sometimes, people said or did things that really had nothing to do with us.

It may seem like they were directing their anger or hurtful comments our way, but really, they were dealing with their own set of issues.

I told him that didn’t mean we had to accept that type of behavior.

He could tell his father that his feelings were hurt.

He could tell his father that he didn’t like when he treated him poorly but… he could not control his father’s actions.

That night, I heard him speak to his dad on the phone.

He told his father that he had hurt his feelings earlier that day.

I couldn’t hear my husband’s response, but I didn’t need to.

I  knew then, that my son had taken the first step in admitting that he was powerless over his father’s actions, and that he did have power over his own.

He could let his father know that what he said had hurt him.

He could let his feelings be known.

He had no control over the outcome but… he could be heard.

“Dear God, help me to remember that I am powerless over others. I cannot control a loved one’s actions or attitudes but I can work on my own.” 

One weekend, my son was walking across the living room when he tripped and broke his hand.

I took him to the emergency room, where I suddenly felt totally overwhelmed.

It was all just too much.

I felt like it had been one thing after another through my divorce and now… my poor son was hurt.

What was even worse, is that I felt myself spiral into shame when the thought, Oh no, now I’m going to have more work to do, popped into my head. My guilt, for even thinking such a thought, was unbearable.

I was spinning with the idea that yet another thing had just been “thrown” at me by the universe.

I wanted my husband to help but I knew, that I probably would not be able to get from him what I wanted.

I missed having someone who could run to the store while I did laundry.

I missed having someone to help with the homework while I cooked dinner.

I missed having someone to hold my hand, soothe me, when I worried about our children.

But my life had changed: It was now… all up to me.

I called my husband from the emergency room and told him what had happened and expressed my feelings and needs.

I was right… he couldn’t help.

He was working until 10pm and I would have to deal with this on my own.

I hung up feeling frustrated.

That evening, when I was finally calm again and lying in bed alone, I thought about my husband and all of the years we had spent together.

My husband had been out of town constantly for work.

His job took him away from our family for a couple of months at a time.

What had I done then… to make it through?

I had no one to help me during that time period so… why could I handle things then… but not now?

I realized that I was feeling overwhelmed because I “believed” that I had been left with all of the responsibilities… I “believed” that my husband was no longer part of my “team.”

When we had been together, I had picked up the slack when I needed to, and I knew that he would pick up the slack when he needed to.

How would we be a team now?

I thought about teams. When a team wasn’t working they restructured and restructuring for me would be; changing my attitude.

It was hard to know that he was in town today and unavailable for me and for our son, and would not be available to me as he had been before.

But I knew for now, that I would have to temporarily be my own team in this situation.

Sometimes my husband would have  to work and do other things and like in the past, when he was out of town, I would have to depend on myself.

He wasn’t saying no forever… he was just saying no for today.

He was at work.

Our son was not seriously injured.

I had already handled things at the hospital.

It was time for me to accept the situation and move on with my day.

Later that week, our son needed to see the orthopedic to get his splint removed and his hand casted. When I called my husband for help, he was there for me. He took our son to the doctor’s office, fed him, and played with him until I came home from work and I was grateful for his help.

By changing my attitude, and accepting the restructuring of my family team, I had let go of being overwhelmed and found a way to handled my day-to-day responsibilities with calm resolve.

“Dear God, when I find myself in a trying situation, help me to walk through it with calm resolve and see solutions instead of problems.”

“God, grant me the serenity, to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

I had heard the Serenity prayer many times over the years but it became something that I said without thinking: More of a hum than any words with actual meaning.

While going through my divorce, I once again became more aware of its power.

I needed to accept the things I could not change.

I could not change my husband’s feelings. If he didn’t love me anymore… if he was unwilling to work on our relationship… if he was unwilling to be married… I could do nothing to change it.

I hated that I couldn’t change things.

I didn’t want to accept it.

I had to remind myself that accepting something didn’t mean that I had to like it.

It didn’t mean that I thought that what was happening was “just fine.”

It didn’t mean that I agreed with another person’s actions or decisions.

It didn’t mean that I condoned another person’s treatment of me.

It just meant that I had to accept life “as is.”

Good or bad.

Right or wrong.

Hurtful or helpful.

On that given day… on any given day… I had to accept that I could not change it.

I must accept it.

The only thing I could do was to work on myself; work on the things inside of me that kept me from being the happy, healthy, serene person that I wanted to be.

I found acceptance by fearlessly looking inside to see what I needed to work on, to be a better person not for my husband, but for myself.

I must remember, that by becoming aware of my need to accept things “as is” and by being willing to work on the one thing I can change, myself and my attitudes toward a particular situation, I can obtain the wisdom that will bring me my serenity.

“God, grant me the serenity, to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” 

I have always had a hard time accepting the word, “No” as an answer.

As a child, I learned that if someone told you, “No,” if you pushed and pleaded long enough, you could usually get them to change their answer to a “Yes.”

There were no set boundaries or rules.

If you couldn’t get them to change their mind, then you went to the next person in the house, and begged and pleaded with them until they said “Yes.”

This was how my family operated.

You could always find someone to say “Yes” and get your way in the end, because no one took the time to openly communicate or agree upon anything.

So when my husband first said that he wanted a divorce, I didn’t take him seriously. Over the many years we had been together, we had both been able to turn an absolute “NO!” into a “Yes” If we just pushed each other long enough or hard enough.

I believed that if I could manipulate the situation just right… once again… I could get him to change his mind because, he had changed it so many times before.

I didn’t even stop to think if it was truly the right decision for me.

I just didn’t want to hear, “No.”

I didn’t want to accept his answer.

I spent months trying to change his mind until one day, we had a phone conversation that forever changed me.

I was trying to convince my husband to come back when he said, “I’m sorry but I just don’t have the ability to get over everything we’ve both been through. I’m so sorry but I can’t. My answer is no.”

It was the first time I truly heard a “No” in my life and accepted it.

There was something in the way he said it: a resolve in his voice, the way he had spoken it kindly.

I understood.

He was not available to me at this time.

He was not capable of giving me what I wanted or needed.

If a person says, “No” I need to respect their decision.

I have to remember that for whatever reason, it isn’t working for them and therefore, it isn’t going to work for me.

No matter how hard I push to get a different answer, that person will still feel the absolute “No” inside of them.

Do I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who feels “No” when I want them to feel “Yes?”

Is that the type of relationship I want to focus all of my time and energy on?

Next time, I will accept the “No” and realize that I may be standing in the way of my true “Yes.”

“Dear God, help me to accept things as they are. If someone doesn’t want to do something, guide me away from trying to force them into doing it.”

I was scheduled to speak at a 12-step meeting on the day that I filed the papers for my divorce.

I was to tell my story and offer the group my experience, strength, and hope.

While driving to the meeting, I started questioning why I was going. I was so down. I felt that I had nothing to offer. What could I say that would inspire anyone?

I pulled into the parking lot and mustered up the courage to go inside and tell my story.

As I stood at the podium, I noticed people listening intently. I saw people smiling and acknowledging what I was saying. Some even nodded and cried.

When I was done, many of the people I had just spoken to came over to hug me and thank me for sharing. Each one told me warmly that I had helped them with a problem that was going on in their lives at the time.

As the members of the meeting left to go home, I noticed one woman hanging back, waiting to talk to me privately.

I walked over to her and took her hand in mine. She smiled at me and said, “You are so courageous. I am so thankful I was able to hear you speak tonight. You inspired me to be strong. I know that I can get through this.”

As I walked back out to my car and started to drive home, I realized that my story didn’t have to be a pretty one or a perfect one to inspire another.

All I needed was the courage to tell it.

The courage to walk through it.

The courage to share it.

Courage means, “Strength of mind to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty.”

I had done that.

I was courageous.

“Dear God, help me to have courage in trying situations. Help me to withstand my problems and triumph over them by having strength of mind.”

I once heard if you really don’t want to get into it with someone there are ways to stop the argument before it starts.

I first started practicing the “Maybe you’re right” rule at work. If I thought someone was trying to pick a fight with me, I would stop myself from reacting and say, “Maybe you’re right.”

If someone said something to me that I felt was a dig at my personality, I would calmly say, “Maybe you’re right.”

If they questioned my judgement in a certain situation, I said, “Maybe you’re right.”

By not reacting, and by taking a step back, I could look at what this person had said with a rational mind. I could see if what they said had any truth in it. If it did, I could approach the person later, in a better state of mind, and discuss their concerns.

If what they said didn’t “hold water,” if it was truly meant to just cause a reaction then, I had removed myself from the situation before it escalated into an argument.

I liked knowing that a person was unable to get the rise they may have expected from me and that I could choose not to lose my peace of mind, or my serenity by just saying a few simple words: Maybe you’re right.

After practicing this technique for awhile, I noticed that people at work, who had tried to get a reaction from me before, stopped baiting me because they were unable to get the “hoped for” result.

I also found, that the people who had honest concerns, respected me for the way I was able to keep a cool head, my calm way of thinking, and my ability to take a step back, and look at myself and my actions.

By using this phrase, “Maybe you’re right,” I took my personal feelings out of the situation and stayed rational.

I was able to bring an emotional situation a step down, instead of reacting and causing it to “step up.”

“Dear God, help me to take a step back when provoked. If I can calmly and rationally, distance myself from the situation, I can then see if I have a part in it. Taking a step back will give me time to see what I truly need to do.”

I grew up in a house full of chaos: there was always a drama going on.
If my parents weren’t arguing, then my brothers were. If I wasn’t crying, someone was. There was never a set schedule for anything and you never knew what was going to happen next.
My husband had also grown up in a chaotic, unstable environment. We thought this type of living was normal.
So, when we began our relationship and we chose to live in chaos, it seemed familiar.
We weren’t able to create a stable, supportive relationship… we didn’t know how.
We were both working jobs that had constantly changing schedules. Sometimes my husband would be out of town for weeks. Sometimes, I would work days… sometimes nights. When we tried to discuss things, I never knew if we would come to a peaceful conclusion or end up in a fight. I was never quite sure how my husband would react and… he probably felt the same way about me.
Our emotions were up and down.
We had not learned in our childhoods how to communicate openly and honestly.
Sometimes, we were close but most of the time, we were withdrawn for long periods, unable to deal with our true feelings.
When you grow up in chaos, you grow up feeling unsure. You never know who or what to trust. You never know what is safe to talk about and what isn’t. You never know what feeling is safe to show that day, or isn’t. One day, you can do something and no one seems to care at all, and the next day, they do.
How can you be truly open to emotional connection, intimacy, and mutual dependency when you have grown-up in chaos?
It was hard for me to admit that chaos was what I chose over serenity.
It sounded silly… but it felt safe.
Safe, because it was what I had learned growing up.
Today, I know that it is safe to have serenity.
Safe to want stability and open communication in a relationship.
Safe to set boundaries, limits, rules.
No life can be completely free of chaos… things happen… schedules shift… people change their minds… things get crazy but… it is okay to have a relationship and home life that is built on serenity and stability instead of chaos and lack of communication.

“Dear God, it is not easy to look at the past and learn from it. Help me to break out of my need for chaos. Lead me to serenity and open communication.”

I was at work one day when I called to listen to my voice mail at my home. I was planning on taking my husband’s voice mail box off the phone when I heard he had a new message. Instead of leaving the message alone and letting my husband know that he had a message that he needed to retrieve, I listened to it.

It was a message that he needed promptly so I took it upon myself to call him and let him know.

The message was related to music, and both of us being musicians, this was some times a very “hot” topic for us and a topic in which we knew we could both definitely push each other’s buttons.

I called him and engaged in a conversation knowing full well that I was in a place where if provoked or pushed, I would react.

As it was, I was provoked and pushed and I did react.

We ended up in an argument and I said something that I knew I would later regret.

I had been caught up in my old habits. I had to admit:

I wanted to listen to his message.

I wanted to get all worked up over it.

I wanted to call him and talk to him, or argue with him just so that I could engage with him: that was my pattern.

My bad habit.

I wanted his attention, positive or negative, no matter at what cost to my serenity.

Today though, I am not oblivious to my habit.

I am aware.

Becoming aware of a bad habit helps me to break the pattern and give up the habit.

It isn’t easy… but it can be done.

“Dear God, help me to let go of my bad habits. Bad habits hurt me. Help me to break the pattern. Help me to give up the habit. Guide me out of chaos and into serenity.”