The most common conversation I have with other people includes the blame game.
The one where your job, your wife, your dog, your mother-in-law, your neighbor six doors down, the media, the government, the receptionist at your doctor’s office, or the dressmaker who measured you wrong is somehow responsible for the problems you’re having.
I too played the blame game.
I intentionally left a marriage that I was very unhappy in and then blamed him for everything. My finances, my unhappiness, my fluctuating weight, my broken-down car, and even my bad hair day were all entirely his fault.
It was then I had that an “aha” moment. I sat there thinking about the blame game wondering, “If games are supposed to be fun, then why is this one keeping me in such a bad place?”
Right then, I made the conscious decision—just like I had left my marriage—that I was going to leave this game behind, too.