For years, I was convinced my attitude was just my mood. How I felt. And if you’ve ever tried to boss your feelings around, you know how well that goes. It’s like trying to herd cats while simultaneously juggling flaming torches. Impossible.

Then, a definition of “attitude” hit me like a revelation (and thankfully, not a Mack truck this time): “angle of approach.”

Mind blown. My angle of approach isn’t some squishy internal feeling or what I vaguely believe. Nope. It’s about how I behave toward something or someone.

And when I made that mental swap, defining my attitude as my actions rather than my spiraling thoughts, stubborn feelings, or shaky beliefs, something truly magical happened. Suddenly, I was in immediate control of my attitude. One tiny, awkward, sometimes forced, stitch at a time.

This means that even if my inner monologue is screaming doubts, fears, and a general reluctance to be a fucking adult, if I behave as someone who is confident that God (or, you know, the universe, or literally anything bigger than my anxiety) has the future in hand, that is my attitude. It’s like faking it till you make it, but with spiritual benefits.

And here’s the best part, the real cherry on top: when I consistently act this way, I eventually get all the benefits of actually having that attitude. Including, and this is crucial, being gloriously free to do the best I can right now. No more agonizing over tomorrow’s unknown, just present-moment productivity.

It’s not about forcing sunshine out of a rain cloud; it’s about choosing to carry an umbrella and maybe a cute pair of rain boots. And that, in itself, is a revolutionary step in living sober.