“Mom, what’s wrong? You look stressed,” my son Alex, who is almost 11, asked from the backseat of the van. He’d arrived back from camp a few days earlier and with that he’d brought his special brand of intuition home. He always knows when I’m feeling off kilter. There’s no point in telling him that nothing is wrong because he won’t buy it. So, I said, “I’m worried about your sister.” Riley is at camp working for ten weeks and doesn’t have access to her phone often. I was worried after my last conversation with her because I didn’t know if and how she’d resolved an issue she’d shared with me. Alex asked if anything had happened. I said, “Sometimes she just gets in her own way.” Alex wisely responded, “We all do sometimes. She’ll figure it out.”    

We all get in our own way sometimes. I know I do. I let my anxiety about what could go wrong in a situation stop me from taking a chance. My fear of failure limits my willingness to risk. Lately, this has played out in my writing. I have a project I’ve started, but I can’t get into a regular rhythm of writing. I’m struggling. But I know deep down, the reason I’ve been hesitant is because I’m afraid that my writing won’t be good enough. That I’m not good enough. I’m blocking my progress. I’m standing in my own way. 

Obviously, this isn’t the first time I’ve gotten into my own head resulting in self-sabotage. And that’s why I worry so much about my kids when I fear that they’re letting their fear stop them from acting courageously. Alex’s confidence that Riley would figure it out made me realize that I don’t always trust others, including my children, to figure it out on their own. Instead, I give my advice whether they want it or not. I think I know what they should do, and don’t hold back.

But it’s often easier to spot the thoughts and actions holding another person back than it is to notice our own behavior. I couldn’t ignore my own blind spot any longer though after Alex pointed out that we all get in our own way. I realized that I’m the only person stopping me from getting to work in earnest on my project. I also came to understand that I don’t necessarily trust myself to figure out what I should do to move forward. Let me say, it’s not a good feeling to realize you don’t have faith in yourself. 

Alex has faith in Riley and me both though. He told me that my worry was a sign that I loved her and that was a good thing. He checked in on me several times that day, reassuring me that Riley would be okay. He even got a tumbler of ice water for me when he thought I needed it. Perhaps one way to move toward confidence in ourselves is to express our lack thereof to someone who loves us and can believe in us until we can believe in ourselves. My backseat Yoda is home from camp just in time to give me the boost I need to get out of my way and trust that others can do the same if I offer them a dose of belief as well.