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Tears streamed down her cheeks. She kept reading. She said she could not believe the words she was reading.
I asked her why it was so hard to believe. She said that no one ever believed in her. People keep reminding her of what she’s done wrong and how she’s screwed up. She was scared to believe. She was afraid to hope.
The words were an hopeful vision for her life. She wrote a living legacy. The way she’d like to be remembered after a long and successful life. Her legacy was simple. She wants to be remembered as a good mother. She wants to prepare her children to succeed. She wants to have a strong family. She wants to enjoy a successful career.
I asked her to read the short story of her legacy to me again. I asked if she could imagine that she was just trying it on…like a coat. If it doesn’t fit, that’s ok. She could take it off once she finished reading. She said she could do that. She read her vision again. Her face was lighter. Tears were still rolling. Belief emerged on her face. Her eyes showed the glimmer of possibility.
I asked her how it felt reading it the second time. She said, “I felt I can start to believe in it.”
After trying on the possibility, she started finding hope.
