A New Approach to a Tried and True Method for Recovery

This month, the Serenity Prayer has been on my mind a lot. While it’s often tied to addiction recovery, I’ve found it to be just as powerful for trauma recovery. It offers a way to reshape how we approach healing from the past and facing our everyday struggles.

Why does it resonate so deeply for me? Because unresolved trauma has a way of influencing how we move through life. When we grow up carrying wounds—whether caused intentionally or unintentionally—it often leaves us desperately trying to control everything: people, situations, outcomes.

Why? To create even the smallest sense of safety.

We convince ourselves that if we can control everything in the outside world, maybe the chaos inside will finally calm down. It feels logical in the moment.

But the truth? It doesn’t work. The energy spent trying to force control leads to more frustration, more pain, and even greater chaos within. And when things inevitably don’t go as planned—when people don’t act as we expect or the world refuses to bend to our will—we’re left to face feelings of abandonment or disappointment all over again.

One weekend in 2009, during a retreat, the Serenity Prayer took on a whole new meaning for me. I was sitting with a group around a campfire, and we were breaking it down, piece by piece, to understand how we could truly live it.

At some point, I found myself saying the first line, “Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.” Then, I chuckled and said out loud, “Well, shit, that’s everything except for myself!”

The group fell silent for a moment, letting that truth sink in. And then, we all started laughing—a deep, cathartic laugh. Because it was so simple, so freeing, and so absurd all at the same time.

Why absurd? Because so much of our energy, our time—our lives, even!—is spent fighting battles we can’t win. We rage at traffic (which isn’t going anywhere). We complain about the weather (as if we could stop the rain). And we project our frustration outward, hoping it will somehow make us feel better inside.

That night, back in my cabin, I rewrote the Serenity Prayer in my journal, personalizing it to my own journey:

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change—which is everyone and everything that isn’t me. The courage to change the thing I can—which is me and only me. And the wisdom to know the difference (which, honestly, isn’t always easy to figure out).”

It seems so straightforward: focus on what you can control—yourself—and let go of the rest. Easy, right? But in moments of pain or struggle, it feels anything but simple.

When someone hurts us or betrays us, there’s this natural instinct to want to make them change. We think, “If they would just act differently, I’d finally feel at peace. If they would just love me, see me, understand me, then I’d be okay.”

I’ve been there. I’ve spent years hoping my parents would see me in the way I needed them to. I wanted them to be different so badly. I thought, If I just wait long enough, maybe they’ll finally get it… finally understand me.

The truth? They haven’t. And, maybe, they never will. And here’s the hardest lesson I’ve learned: no amount of wishing, hoping, or willing someone else to change will ever work.

What does work—what shifts everything—is taking a hard look in the mirror and realizing the only person we can truly change is ourselves.

What would it feel like to stop grasping at things you can’t control? To pull all that energy back inward—to yourself?

• Imagine waking up each morning reminding yourself that other people’s behavior is not your responsibility.

• Picture yourself driving, focusing only on the road ahead and your own car—not on the person cutting you off or driving too slow.

• Think about how much lighter life would feel if you let go of blaming others and started asking, “What can I own in this moment? How can I show up for myself today?”

Wouldn’t it feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders? Because here’s the thing: blaming others for our experiences doesn’t change anything, and trying to control others is exhausting. But focusing on what we can change—ourselves—opens the door to healing.

Of course, none of this means we ignore bad behavior or pretend we’re unaffected when people harm us. It’s normal to feel hurt or anger when those moments come. But even in those instances, the bigger question remains: What do you do next? Will you waste your energy trying to fix something that isn’t yours to fix? Or will you focus on the one thing you can control—your response?

It’s not easy, but it’s powerful.

This week, I have a challenge for you—three simple steps to practice letting go and reclaiming your energy:

1. Focus only on yourself while driving. If someone cuts you off or drives poorly, instead of reacting, let it go. Focus on your own driving and nothing else.

2. When tension rises, pause and reflect. Notice if anger, frustration, or resentment bubbles up in a situation. Stop and ask yourself, “Am I angry because I don’t have control here? What can I do instead?”

3. Be the change you seek. If you want more kindness in the world, start with yourself—be kind to others, and especially to yourself. If you’re craving more stability, take small steps toward it. Brew coffee at home. Save a little bit of cash each week. The smallest acts of change compound into larger transformations over time.

Start small. Change doesn’t have to be drastic or overwhelming. But when you commit to focusing inward, you’ll eventually look back and realize how far you’ve come.

The Serenity Prayer isn’t just a set of words. It’s an invitation to take ownership of your life and free yourself from the endless battle of trying to control what isn’t yours to control.

You’re capable of so much when you let go of the fight with the outside world and come home to yourself.

Focus on your healing. Focus on your growth. Everything else will fall into place in its own time.

And trust me—when you see that shift happening, it feels like real freedom.