you can do hard things

Once upon a time, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself. As a teen, I was resentful I had a schizophrenic, bi-polar father and a mother that was abusive despite her best intentions. I hated that I grew up in a very poor neighborhood that was so violent my mother didn’t let me get the mail since we had so many drive-by shootings, and that we never got it together enough to own a house so we had to move at the mercy of our landlords.

More recently, I was feeling sorry that I had to work so much to provide insurance for our family ($2600 a month for a family of three with a $10,000 deductible! In Oregon our plan was 1/4 that with a low deductible); I was resentful that I “had” to get a doctoral degree when I had a toddler (long story I won’t go into here); I was bitter that my husband was gone so much and that I was home alone with my kid way more that I wanted to be…and more. The self-pity party went on and on… waaahhhh.

Deep down, I knew this wasn’t serving me. But it really did feel like my life was messed up at the time, and that I had a right to be pissed about it.

I’m sure you’ve felt this way a few times, yes?

I was so blocked about this – the hard stuff seemed so hard that it really did seem factual that my life was not the way it was supposed to be.

I couldn’t self-coach around it, so I asked my coach to let me vent for 2 minutes, and at the end she says to me, “You know…that all sounds pretty badass to me.”

I was taken aback.

Right.

The other way to look at the hard things we have had to deal with in life is, “Hey – I’m a badass. That’s right. I did this. Me.”

I am providing for my family. I am Doctor Ana Verzone, thank you very much. I live in the most awe-inspiring state ever – yes, it is harder to live here, and we savor it even more as a result. I’m married to an adventurer and I can hold down the fort alone when need be. I grew up poor and now I’m not. I chose all this, and the Universe dealt me this hand, because I am a badass, and I can handle it.

All that shit you wish didn’t happen to you? It is part of your badassery training (if badassery is even a word).

Flip the self-pity into self-admiration, sister. This party is just getting started.

You survived that shit. And now you’re learning to thrive.

The broken heart?

Getting fired?

The messed-up childhood?

The abusive relationship you are ashamed about?

Your chronic illness?

All of it – all the hard stuff – has forged you into something stronger. But it’s up to you to see that.

We can do hard things.

You can do hard things. You already have.

What about you, badass? What have you survived? What have you risen above? What battle scars do you bear?

Chin up.

You’ve got this.

Comments are closed.