How Does a Person Actually Change Their Mindset? The Real Story (Copy)

When everything you believed about life gets turned upside down, changing your mindset isn't about positive thinking—it's about survival, one thought at a time.

Someone asked me recently how I changed my mindset after losing Lilly. How I went from seven years of rage and despair to someone who could write about hope and healing. They wanted to know the secret, the magic formula, the moment everything shifted.

I had to laugh—not because it was funny, but because the question assumes there was some grand revelation, some light-bulb moment when I decided to think differently and poof—everything changed.

The truth is messier, slower, and more ordinary than that. Changing your mindset after devastating loss isn't about flipping a switch. It's about doing the painstaking work of examining every single thought that runs through your head and asking: "Is this thought helping me heal, or is it keeping me stuck?"

And then doing that work again. And again. And again. For months. For years. Until new patterns start to take hold.

The Myth of Mindset Change

Let me tell you what changing your mindset is NOT:

It's not about positive thinking your way out of legitimate pain. After Lilly died, well-meaning people told me to "think positive" and "focus on the good things." That advice felt like being told to put a Band-Aid on a severed artery.

It's not about affirmations in the mirror that you don't believe. I tried that. Standing there saying "I am strong and resilient" while feeling like I was barely holding myself together just made me feel like a fraud.

It's not about suddenly seeing your trauma as a "blessing in disguise." Some experiences are just devastating, period. The goal isn't to pretend they're gifts—it's to find a way to live with them that doesn't destroy you.

What Mindset Change Actually Looks Like

Real mindset change is much more subtle and much more difficult than the self-help books suggest. It's the slow, deliberate work of catching your automatic thoughts and asking yourself: "Is this thought true? Is it helpful? What would happen if I thought about this differently?"

For me, it started with one single thought pattern that was killing me: "I should have been able to protect her."

This thought ran on repeat in my head for years. Every day, dozens of times a day, my brain would serve up this belief that I had somehow failed as a mother, that I should have seen it coming, that I should have done something different.

The Work of Examining Thoughts

One day, in therapy, my counselor asked me to really examine that thought. "Is it true that you should have been able to protect her from a drunk driver?"

My immediate response was "YES! Of course! I'm her mother!"

But then she asked me to think about it more carefully. Could I have known that a drunk driver would be on that specific road at that specific time? Could I have prevented someone else's decision to drink and drive? Was it actually within my power to control every variable that might affect my daughter's safety?

The honest answer was no. But acknowledging that felt like betraying my love for her, like admitting I didn't care enough to move heaven and earth to save her.

The Slow Shift

Changing my mindset around that thought didn't happen overnight. It was a process that took months of:

Catching the thought when it appeared - which was constant at first Questioning its accuracy - even when it felt true in my bones Replacing it with something more realistic - "I loved her completely and did everything I knew how to do" Being patient with myself when the old thought pattern returned Celebrating small victories when I could go a few hours without torturing myself

The shift from "I should have protected her" to "I loved her the best way I knew how" seems small, but it was revolutionary. It was the difference between living in constant self-torture and living with the sadness of loss—which, while still painful, was bearable.

It's Not About Perfection

Here's what I wish someone had told me about changing your mindset: it's not about achieving some perfect state of enlightenment where you never have negative thoughts again.

Even now, years later, that old thought sometimes resurfaces: "You should have protected her." But now, instead of spiraling into hours of self-blame, I can recognize it as an old pattern and gently redirect: "You loved her with everything you had. The drunk driver's choice wasn't yours to make."

The victory isn't in never having the destructive thought—it's in how quickly you can catch it and choose a different response.

The Physical Reality of Thought Patterns

What most people don't understand about mindset change is that it's not just mental—it's physical. Your brain has literally carved neural pathways for your most frequent thoughts. Changing your mindset means creating new pathways while the old ones gradually weaken from disuse.

This is why mindset change takes time and repetition. You're not just changing what you think—you're rewiring your brain. And brains, like all physical systems, change slowly.

When I first started questioning my self-blame patterns, it felt forced and fake. The new thoughts didn't feel true yet because my brain hadn't built strong pathways for them. But each time I practiced the new thought, I was literally strengthening those neural connections.

Practical Steps That Actually Work

If you're trying to change destructive thought patterns, here's what I've learned actually helps:

1. Start with awareness, not change Before you can change your thoughts, you have to catch them. Spend a few days just noticing your automatic thoughts without trying to change them. What stories does your brain tell you about yourself, your situation, your future?

2. Write them down There's something powerful about seeing your thoughts on paper. It makes them feel less like absolute truth and more like... just thoughts.

3. Question one thought at a time Don't try to overhaul your entire mental landscape at once. Pick one recurring destructive thought and work on that.

4. Find evidence for alternative thoughts Instead of just trying to think positively, look for actual evidence that supports a more balanced perspective. What would you tell a friend in your situation?

5. Practice the new thought even when it feels fake This is crucial. New thought patterns feel artificial at first because your brain hasn't built strong pathways for them yet. Practice anyway.

6. Be patient with setbacks Old thought patterns will resurface, especially during stress. This isn't failure—it's normal. The goal is to catch them faster and redirect more quickly.

When Professional Help Is Needed

Sometimes changing destructive thought patterns requires more than willpower and self-awareness. If your thoughts include:

  • Constant self-blame or shame

  • Suicidal ideation

  • Catastrophic thinking that interferes with daily life

  • Obsessive loops you can't break on your own

Please consider working with a therapist who specializes in cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) or trauma. There's no shame in needing professional support for this work.

The Ripple Effect

What surprised me about changing my mindset was how it affected everything else. When I stopped torturing myself with thoughts of what I "should have" done differently, I had mental energy available for other things. I could actually hear what my surviving daughter was saying to me. I could consider what I wanted my future to look like.

Changing one core thought pattern—the self-blame—created space for other changes. It didn't eliminate my grief, but it made my grief cleaner, less complicated by guilt and self-attack.

Your Thoughts Aren't Facts

The most important thing I learned about changing my mindset is this: your thoughts aren't facts. They're just mental habits, patterns your brain has developed often as protective mechanisms during difficult times.

The thought "I'll never be happy again" isn't a prophecy—it's just your brain trying to prepare you for ongoing pain. The thought "No one understands what I'm going through" isn't reality—it's your mind protecting you from potential disappointment.

You can acknowledge these thoughts without being controlled by them. You can thank your brain for trying to protect you while choosing thoughts that actually serve your healing.

It's Not About Becoming Someone Else

Changing your mindset after trauma isn't about becoming a completely different person. It's about becoming a version of yourself that can carry your experiences without being destroyed by them.

I'm still the mother who lost her daughter. I still grieve. I still have hard days when the pain feels as fresh as it did in the beginning. But I'm also someone who has learned to think about that loss in ways that honor both my love for Lilly and my responsibility to my own healing.

The goal isn't to eliminate difficult emotions or challenging thoughts. The goal is to relate to them differently—to become the observer of your thoughts rather than their victim.

Your Mind Is More Flexible Than You Think

If you're reading this while struggling with destructive thought patterns, I want you to know: your mind is more flexible than it feels right now. The thoughts that feel so solid, so permanent, so absolutely true—they're actually quite changeable with time and practice.

You don't have to believe everything your brain tells you. You can question its assumptions, challenge its conclusions, and gradually train it to serve your healing rather than your suffering.

The mind that has learned to torture you can also learn to comfort you. The brain that has carved pathways for despair can also carve pathways for hope. It just takes time, patience, and the willingness to do the work one thought at a time.

Change is possible. Healing is possible. A different relationship with your own mind is possible.

And it starts with the very next thought you choose to think.

What thoughts have been running your life? Which one would you like to examine first? Remember: you don't have to believe everything your mind tells you. You have more power over your thoughts than they have over you.

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The Dragonfly That Found Me

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Grief Has No Expiration Date (And That’s Okay)