Step Seven

For a long time, the word "humbly" felt like a trap. I associated it with being humiliated or making myself small, but my sponsor helped me see that humility is really just about getting honest with myself. I used to think that if I just tried harder, read more books, or exercised enough "discipline," I could white-knuckle my way into being a better person. I thought I could manage my defects the same way I tried to manage the alcoholic—through sheer force of will.

In Step 7, we’re taught that humility is the bone-deep realization that our willpower is a spent currency. It’s the acceptance that I cannot rid myself of these defects through self-discipline any more than I could "discipline" someone else into sobriety. This Step is where I finally admit that I am not the mechanic of my own soul. It’s the "right-sizing" of the ego; I stop trying to play God and start acknowledging that I need a power greater than myself to do the work I simply cannot do.

The core of this Step is the conscious, deliberate act of asking. It’s not a one-time prayer, but a daily shift in my attitude. When I feel that old familiar urge to control, or that spike of resentment, I have to stop and say, "I can’t do this with my own resources. Please take this pride away so I can act from a place of love instead of fear."

The spiritual principle here is humility, which is the opposite of the self-sufficiency that kept me isolated for so long. There is such a profound relief in admitting I’m not in charge of my own transformation. We move from the exhausted "I will do better" to the peaceful "Please make me better." By asking for help, I’m not admitting defeat—I’m finally opening the door to the grace that allows real change to happen.