The Moment That Changed Her—But Not Me
The Moment That Changed Her—But Not Me
A few years ago, I was standing in the shallow end of a pool when a little girl slipped under the water. It happened in an instant. I reached down, lifted her up, and handed her back to safety.
For me, it wasn’t frightening. I didn’t even have time to feel fear. My body reacted before my brain caught up, and afterward what I felt was simple gratitude—gratitude that I was right there, close enough to catch it, alert enough to notice, able to help.
But for her? It was a completely different story.
For her, that moment may have branded itself as terror. A split second in which she was alone, underwater, helpless. A moment that could easily form a belief:
“I’m not safe.”
“Water is dangerous.”
“People disappear on me.”
“I can’t trust that someone will be there.”
Same event. Two entirely different inner worlds.
Events don’t create our long-lasting patterns. Our interpretation of the event does.
What the nervous system absorbs in that one moment—fear, shock, abandonment, helplessness, powerlessness—can turn into a belief that stays for years. We build whole behaviors around those beliefs, often without realizing it.
But here’s the hope: If a belief was created by an interpretation, it can be changed by a new interpretation—a more grounded, compassionate, accurate one.
With the right support, we can return to those moments, gently untangle what our younger selves concluded, and help the body release the fear it held onto.
That’s when life starts to shift.
That’s when choices open up.
That’s when the old patterns stop running the show.
It’s never the moment itself that defines us. It’s what we came to believe because of it.
Events happen. Beliefs are formed.
But beliefs aren’t facts—they’re interpretations.
And once we see that clearly, we’re no longer trapped by the ones we didn’t consciously choose.
