For a long time, I believed I was doing life the right way. Very much in the spirit of Bon Jovi’s “It’s My Life” and Frank Sinatra’s “My Way”, I trusted my own strength, made my own decisions, and took pride in answering to no one but myself.
I believed I was strong, capable and independent. I wore those words like badges of honor. I was proud of the fact that I had survived so much and still managed to keep going. I had raised my children, held everything together, paid the bills, and figured things out on my own. No one had rescued me. No one had carried me. I had done it myself. And for years, I truly thought that was something to celebrate.
I didn’t realize that underneath all that independence was a weary soul and a mind that had never truly been at rest.
The Years I Tried to Fix Myself
Before I ever surrendered to God, I tried almost everything else.
I dove into self-motivational books and podcasts. I practiced positive thinking and positive self-talk. I repeated affirmations, visualized better outcomes, and told myself that if I just focused hard enough, believed strongly enough, or spoke the right words, my life would eventually line up.
I explored the law of attraction. I listened to what people on the internet were saying about “manifesting your reality” and “becoming your highest self.” I absorbed spiritual language that sounded empowering but slowly pulled my focus away from God and toward myself.
At times, it seemed to work. For a while, I felt motivated, encouraged and even hopeful. I would have short bursts where I felt like I was finally “getting it,” like I had unlocked some secret to changing my life. But those changes never lasted.
When the motivation wore off, the old thoughts came back: fear, self-doubt, anxiety, shame. When life didn’t respond the way I expected, I blamed myself. I must not be thinking positively enough. I must not be aligned enough. I must be doing it wrong.
What I didn’t realize then was that all of it was surface-level. It touched my behavior sometimes, my mood temporarily, but it never reached my heart. It never transformed my thinking at the root.
I even tried counseling over the years. And while it helped me understand myself better, it still didn’t heal the deeper struggle. I could explain why I thought the way I did, but I didn’t know how to truly change it. I was collecting tools, but I was avoiding surrender.
The Lie I Didn’t Know I Was Living
Looking back now, I can say this honestly: I had built my life on self-reliance, and I was proud of it. I believed my independence was proof of my strength. I told myself I didn’t need anyone. I had learned to rely on myself because life had taught me that depending on others often led to disappointment.
Even my faith had quietly shifted. I always believed in God, but I didn’t truly depend on Him. I invited Him into my life, but I didn’t give Him control.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.”
— Proverbs 3:5
I leaned on my own understanding constantly. I didn’t see it as rebellion. I saw it as a responsibility, wisdom and maturity. But the truth is, I was exhausted. My mind was always racing. My thoughts were heavy. No matter how much I achieved or how “together” I appeared, I never felt settled inside.
I had accomplished many great things on my own, yes, but my mindset had not changed. My heart had not healed. I was managing life, not living it. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, I was drifting further away and further away from God, not because I rejected Him, but because I kept replacing Him with myself.
Hitting the Wall I Couldn’t Think My Way Around
Eventually, I reached a place where I ran out of answers.
My way of doing life had not worked out the way I had planned. The dreams I had carefully constructed for myself and for my family, had not unfolded the way I believed they should. Doors I wanted desperately to stay open, closed instead. Paths I thought were right, ended abruptly. And for the first time, I didn’t know how to fix it. That’s where surrender found me.
Not the pretty, spiritual-sounding kind. The kind that comes when you’re tired of pretending you’re in control. I remember coming to God honestly, without filters, without rehearsed prayers and telling Him plainly: My way isn’t working. I don’t know better anymore. If You don’t lead me, I will keep going in circles.
That was the moment everything shifted.
Letting Go of Control
Surrender didn’t feel peaceful at first. It felt terrifying.
I had to admit that the life I had been so proud of building on my own wasn’t bringing the peace I craved. I had to let go of the identity I had wrapped around being the “strong, independent single mother who needs no one.” I had to accept that relying solely on myself had limitations and I had reached the end of the rope.
“Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit,” says the Lord.
— Zechariah 4:6
Little by little, I stopped trying to force outcomes. I stopped trying to think my way out of every problem. I stopped trying to control how my life should look. Instead, I gave it to God.
Grieving the Dreams God Closed
Part of surrender meant facing disappointment.
There were dreams I had held onto for years, visions of how I thought my life and family should look. When God closed certain doors, it felt like a huge loss. I grieved those dreams deeply. And I spoke to God about it, honestly. I told Him that if He was going to close doors I believed were right for me, then He had to show me the doors He was opening for me. I needed His guidance, not silence. I needed clarity, not confusion.
“Show me Your ways, Lord, teach me Your paths.”
— Psalm 25:4
Slowly, God did exactly that. Not all at once. Not dramatically, but faithfully.
Learning to Trust God’s Way
Trust didn’t come overnight. It grew as I watched God carry me through changes I thought would break me.
I began to see that closed doors weren’t punishment, they were protection. I began to understand that delays weren’t denial, they were preparation. The more I placed God first, the quieter my mind became. The anxiety didn’t vanish instantly, but it loosened its grip. I found myself coping better with change, with uncertainty, with challenges I once would have spiraled over.
“But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”
— Matthew 6:33
That verse became very real to me in a way it never had before.
When I decided to seek God first, before my fears, before my plans, before my expectations, then everything else stopped feeling so heavy. The constant striving eased up and the pressure to have it all figured out faded.
Real Mindset Change Begins With God
I finally understood why nothing else had worked. Positive thinking wasn’t enough. Self-talk wasn’t enough. Motivation wasn’t enough. Because real mindset change isn’t about replacing negative thoughts with positive ones, it’s about replacing lies with truth. And truth isn’t something we create. It’s something we receive from God.
“Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
— John 8:32
For the first time, my mind began to renew from the inside out, not because I was trying harder, but because I had surrendered my life to God’s will.
The Peace I Didn’t Earn
Today, I live with a stable peace of mind I never knew before. Not because life is perfect, but because I no longer believe I have to control everything to be okay.
I cope better with change and I respond differently to challenges. I trust God’s plans more than my own. And when fear or old thought patterns try to return, I know where to take them.
“Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”
— 1 Peter 5:7
Why This Became My Calling
This is why faith and mindset coaching became part of my calling. Because I know what it’s like to try everything else first. To live in self-reliance disguised as strength. To chase surface-level change while your heart stays tired.
I don’t help people “manifest” a better life. I help them surrender to the One who already holds it.Real transformation doesn’t come from thinking harder, it comes from trusting deeper. Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is finally say: “God, You know better than I do. I give You control.” That’s where peace begins.
