I believe that for us to work together effectively, we need to build trust.
When I was a therapist, I usually began by asking clients to share their insecurities.
I’ve come to see that much of our suffering is self-created. This became clear while working with a male coach who, to my surprise, didn’t notice the imperfections I thought were so obvious. I realized that the only thing standing between me and ‘success’ was the version of myself I kept clinging to—fueled by self-imposed fears and distractions. I no longer reach for ‘success’. I reach for God and have his will work through me for the sake of others.
I’ll start by showing my vulnerability.
Here are a few of the most profound realizations I’ve had as a mother, a therapist, and a Christian.
Once married in a Catholic Church 28 years ago, I believed that my love for my husband would remain steady and as passionate as it was that day. By 2025, after truly understanding what marriage is meant to be, I realize that the challenges and hardships we’ve faced are not failures but part of God’s process of sanctification for both of us. Every pain, critical comment, disappointment, and subsequent forgiveness has been God’s way of bringing us closer to Him, leading to the ultimate joy and eternal life in Heaven.
I have many regrets about my 40s. I spent far too much time ‘doing’ — focused on my duties as a mother and building my career — without being fully present. The memories from that time feel blurred as if I lived them without truly experiencing them. By my 50s, I knew something needed to change. I began prioritizing sleep, replaced early morning workouts with quiet time for reading, journaling, and prayer, and made space for meaningful moments with loved ones.
For years, I clung to habits and disciplines that gave me a sense of control – sometimes even worshipping them. Exercise routines, food rules, and relentless productivity became false securities. I called them “self-care,” but they were, in truth, a resistance to trust. Obedience to God requires a different kind of strength: the willingness to release every safeguard that keeps me from relying entirely on Him. I strive to make this sense of resignation my default. To find the courage to let go of ego, past wounds, and the illusion of control, trusting His love and mercy without needing proof.
At 56, I redefined what love means to me. I used to believe that to love someone, you had to truly know them. But St. Thomas Aquinas said something that changed my view: “To love is to will the good of another.”
This new perspective allowed me to love even those connected to the loss of my two brothers.
During a separation from my husband, I faced an uncomfortable truth: anger and resentment were tools I used to avoid confronting myself. My thoughts, judgments, and assumptions clouded my vision and allowed me to avoid taking responsibility for my actions.