Choosing Growth

Talk Doesn’t Cook Rice

We live in a world full of talk.

Big plans.
Big promises.
Big visions.
Big intentions.

People talk about healing.
Talk about change.
Talk about growth.
Talk about becoming better versions of themselves.

But here’s the truth:

Talk doesn’t cook rice.

Words alone don’t transform lives.
Intentions alone don’t create change.
Awareness alone doesn’t produce growth.

Action does.

Prefer to listen? The Audio Blog version is available here.

Why We Mistake Intention for Transformation

It feels productive to talk about change.

It gives us the illusion of movement.
The comfort of progress.
The sense that we’re “doing something.”

But talking about healing isn’t the same as doing the work.
Planning growth isn’t the same as practicing it.
Wanting change isn’t the same as choosing it.

Intentions are powerful — but they are not enough.

Without action, they stay ideas.

Growth Is Built in the Doing

Real change happens quietly.

In daily choices.
In uncomfortable conversations.
In boundaries that are enforced.
In habits that are practiced.
In consistency that no one applauds.

Growth isn’t dramatic — it’s disciplined.

It’s choosing differently when no one is watching.
It’s doing the hard thing instead of the easy thing.
It’s showing up even when motivation fades.

This is where transformation lives.

Why Action Feels Harder Than Talk

Because action requires accountability.

It requires discomfort.
Consistency.
Commitment.
Ownership.

Talking keeps us safe.
Doing makes us vulnerable.

Talk lets us imagine change.
Action forces us to embody it.

And embodiment is always more demanding than intention.

Alignment Is Action, Not Language

People often say they want peace —
but live in chaos.

They say they want healing —
but avoid truth.

They say they want growth —
but resist change.

Alignment isn’t what you say you value.
It’s what you practice daily.

Your life reflects your actions, not your affirmations.

Small Actions Create Big Shifts

Change doesn’t require perfection.

It requires participation.

One boundary.
One honest conversation.
One healthy choice.
One brave decision.
One consistent habit.

You don’t need to overhaul your life overnight —
you need to start moving.

Progress compounds.

Discipline Is a Form of Self-Love

Choosing action over talk is not punishment.

It’s care.

It’s choosing the future over comfort.
The long-term over the short-term.
The truth over the story.

Discipline isn’t harsh — it’s protective.

It keeps you aligned when motivation fades.

You Don’t Become Different by Declaring It

You become different by living differently.

Not by announcing change.
Not by explaining it.
Not by justifying it.

But by practicing it.

Transformation is quiet.
Consistency is powerful.
Movement creates momentum.

If You Want Change, Start Moving

Ask yourself:

Where am I talking instead of doing?
Where am I planning instead of acting?
Where am I waiting instead of choosing?

Because nothing changes until something changes.

And talk doesn’t cook rice.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: Where in your life have you been talking about change instead of acting on it?
L: What fear has been keeping you in planning mode?
A: What is one small action you can take today instead of waiting?
Y: How would your life shift if you committed to movement over conversation?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Where in your life do you know it’s time to stop talking and start moving?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who keeps waiting for the “right time,” send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Shed Your Shell

There comes a moment in growth when what once protected you starts to restrict you.

The shell that kept you safe.
The space that helped you survive.
The role that made sense for who you were.

At some point, it stops fitting.

Nature offers us a powerful metaphor for this: turtles don’t stay in the same shell forever. The shell grows with them. And in the in-between — the moment when one shell no longer fits and the next is forming — there is vulnerability.

Exposure.
Uncertainty.
Risk.

But there is also expansion.

And the question becomes: Is it time for you to shed a space you’ve outgrown?

Prefer to listen? The Audio Blog version is available here.

When Protection Becomes Confinement

Most of us build shells for a reason.

We create emotional armor to survive pain.
We stay in environments that once felt safe.
We cling to identities that kept us accepted.

Those shells serve a purpose — until they don’t.

What once protected you can begin to suffocate you.
What once felt like safety can start to feel like stagnation.

And when growth begins pressing from the inside, the shell cracks.

Not because you’re failing — but because you’re expanding.

The In Between Is the Scariest Part

Shedding a shell doesn’t mean instantly stepping into something new and perfect.

There is often a space in between.

A season where you don’t quite know who you are yet.
Where the old no longer fits and the new hasn’t fully formed.
Where you feel exposed, tender, and unsure.

This is the part most people try to avoid.

They rush to replace what they’ve outgrown.
They stay longer than they should.
They squeeze themselves back into something familiar, even when it hurts.

But growth doesn’t happen by retreating.

It happens by trusting the in-between.

Vulnerability Is Not Weakness It’s Transition

The time between shells feels vulnerable because it is.

But vulnerability is not failure.
It’s movement.

It’s the space where truth gets clearer.
Where alignment becomes non-negotiable.
Where you stop pretending you still fit somewhere you don’t.

You are not meant to stay exposed forever — but you are meant to pass through this phase honestly.

Avoiding vulnerability delays expansion.

Outgrowing Spaces Is a Sign of Growth

We often shame ourselves for wanting more.

More room.
More truth.
More alignment.

But outgrowing a space doesn’t mean it was wrong.
It means it worked — and now you’ve grown.

You can be grateful for what once held you and still release it.

Growth doesn’t erase the past.
It builds on it.

You Can’t Move Into a Bigger Shell While Clinging to the Old One

This is the part that requires courage.

You cannot expand while holding onto what no longer fits.

You can’t grow into a larger life while shrinking yourself to stay comfortable for others. You can’t access your next level while insisting on staying in the same environment, relationship, or role that limits you.

Letting go doesn’t mean you know exactly what’s next.

It means you trust that what’s next requires more room than what you’re in now.

Discomfort Is Often the Doorway

The urge to shed your shell usually arrives as discomfort.

Restlessness.
Irritation.
A quiet knowing that something is off.

Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?”
Try asking, “What no longer fits?”

Discomfort is often the signal that growth is already happening.

You Are Allowed to Choose Expansion

You don’t need permission to grow.

You don’t need everything figured out before you move.
You don’t need certainty to trust yourself.

You only need honesty.

If the space you’re in feels tight, limiting, or misaligned — it may be time to shed it.

Not recklessly.
Not impulsively.
But intentionally.

Growth asks us to release what’s too small so we can step into what’s next.

The Bigger Shell Is Waiting

The next shell doesn’t appear while you’re clinging to the old one.

It forms as you grow.

As you trust yourself.
As you tolerate vulnerability.
As you honor the truth that you are no longer who you were.

You were never meant to stay the same size forever.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: What space in your life feels tight, limiting, or outgrown?
L: What shell have you been holding onto because it once kept you safe?
A: What fears come up when you imagine letting it go?
Y: What might be possible if you trusted the in-between and allowed yourself to expand?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Is there a space in your life you know you’ve outgrown — and what’s holding you back from shedding it?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone standing at the edge of growth, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

How Does This Make Us Better?

Every challenge carries a choice. It can break us—or it can shape us.

Some of the hardest moments in my life are also the ones that changed me the most. Even the night I nearly lost my life—by all accounts, a night I shouldn’t have survived—eventually became a turning point. That experience didn’t just shake me, it redefined me. Not instantly, and not without pain, but over time, it became the spark for something more.

At first, I didn’t feel lucky to be alive. I felt guilty. I questioned whether my life was worth saving. What had I done to deserve another chance? Was I doing enough with the life I had?

But as I worked through the survivor’s guilt, something shifted. I began to see the opportunity in front of me—not just to live, but to give back. To take stock of my life. To use my pain for purpose.

And that’s what ultimately inspired me to create this blog—to take the hardest parts of my journey and turn them into a light for someone else.

The Darkness Doesn’t Last Forever

When you’re in the middle of it—whatever it is—it’s hard to imagine things getting better.

I remember thinking the darkness was permanent. That I’d never see light again. I hid. I shut down. I told myself if I admitted how bad things were, people would think I was broken.

But that wasn’t true.

The truth is, it took someone else shining their light to help me find my own. One person shared their story. One person reached out. And that small gesture gave me just enough hope to believe that maybe—just maybe—things could change.

Fighting my way out took honesty, stamina, and support. And I didn’t do it alone. I still don’t. Fourteen years later, I still lean on the people in my corner. Because healing isn’t a one-time event—it’s a daily choice.

Turn the Pain Into Purpose

As I began to untangle my past, I started to see how it could be used for good.

The darkness I had once resented became a foundation for something bigger. A way to connect with others. A way to offer hope. A way to create change.

The truth is, we don’t just “get through” hard things. We grow through them.

Every difficult season gave me a tool—resilience, compassion, boundaries, forgiveness. And with each tool, life became a little more manageable.

I’ve learned to ask for help. I’ve learned how to stay in the light. And I’ve learned that even when I don’t have the answers, I can reach out to someone who does.

None of this happened in isolation. And it wasn’t meant to. We’re not built to walk this path alone.

We’re Always in This Together

There’s a hashtag I see a lot: #WereInThisTogether. And while it’s been used to describe difficult global seasons, the truth is—it applies to all of life.

We are always in this together.
It’s easy to forget that when things are going well. But in moments of pain, we remember: we need each other.

And when we remember that, we grow stronger—not just as individuals, but as a collective.

When we rise, we lift others with us.
When we heal, we make space for others to do the same.

Choosing to Come Out Better

Right now, we all have a little more time to think. Life has slowed down, and in the pause, there’s a chance to reflect.

So here’s a question worth asking: How does this make me better?

Not how does this break me—but how can I use this to grow?
How can I take this struggle, this shift, this pause—and turn it into purpose?

That’s where real transformation happens. In the questions. In the actions. In the moments we choose light over darkness, connection over isolation, growth over fear.

We all have room to grow. We all have ways to get better. The choice is ours—every single day.

So what will you choose today?

SLAY Reflection

Take a moment, SLAYER, and reflect:

  • S: Have difficult times in your life led to personal growth? What did you learn?

  • L: Are there past challenges you now see as defining moments? What shifted?

  • A: What can you take from your current season and use to grow or help someone else?

  • Y: What’s one positive change you can commit to today that will lead you closer to your best self?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What lessons have you taken from your darkest moments, and how did they shape who you are today?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s still in the dark, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

It’s Not The Pain That Helps Us Grow, It’s Our Response To It

Before I stepped onto this path, I walked through a lot of pain.

Not gracefully.
Not reflectively.
More like a storm spinning out of control—reactive, destructive, and exhausting.

I told myself, and was often told by others, that the pain was making me stronger. That suffering was proof of growth. That endurance alone was somehow building character.

But looking back, I can see the truth much more clearly now:

The pain wasn’t strengthening me.
My response to it was weakening me.

And in many cases, I was the source of my own pain.

That realization wasn’t comfortable—but it was freeing. Because it showed me that growth was never about how much pain I endured. It was about what I did after the pain showed up.

Pain Is Inevitable Suffering Is Optional

Pain is part of being human.

We get hurt.
We get disappointed.
We get blindsided—sometimes by others, sometimes by life itself.

But pain alone doesn’t create growth.

Pain without awareness creates repetition.
Pain without reflection creates cycles.
Pain without honesty keeps us stuck.

What determines growth isn’t the pain itself—it’s whether we react from old wounds or respond with clarity.

And there is always a choice.

Reaction Keeps Us Stuck Response Moves Us Forward

There’s a difference between reacting and responding.

Reaction is impulsive.
It’s emotional.
It’s driven by fear, old stories, and survival patterns.

Response is intentional.
It’s grounded.
It’s guided by truth instead of triggers.

When I reacted to pain, I made choices that caused more pain—burning bridges, sabotaging myself, repeating patterns I swore I wanted to escape.

When pain wasn’t self-inflicted, that was where growth became possible—if I was willing to respond instead of explode.

The Myth That Pain Builds Strength

One of the most damaging stories we tell ourselves is that pain itself makes us stronger.

That belief often keeps us tolerating what we shouldn’t.
It keeps us in harmful relationships.
It keeps us justifying self-destructive behavior.

Pain doesn’t build strength.

Choices build strength.

The strength comes from what you learn.
From what you release.
From what you decide not to repeat.

The old narrative—that suffering proves worth or resilience—often keeps us returning to the same sources of harm, believing it’s “part of the process.”

It isn’t.

Getting the Facts Is How We Grow Safely

One of the core truths I return to again and again is this:
When we have the facts, we are safe.

Not the feelings.
Not the assumptions.
Not the stories shaped by past wounds.

The facts.

Looking at pain honestly—without embellishment, blame, or denial—allows us to understand its source. And once we understand the source, we gain power.

Power to choose differently.
Power to set boundaries.
Power to walk away instead of reenacting.

Pain becomes useful only when it’s investigated.

We Always Have More Control Than We Think

Here’s the part that changes everything:

We don’t control whether pain shows up—but we do control how much we let it stay.

We can:

  • Let it fester

  • Turn it into resentment

  • Use it for sympathy

  • Or learn from it and release it

Sometimes simply letting pain go is growth.

Not every wound needs a deep dive. Some lessons are learned by choosing not to engage again.

And when you’re living from self-love and honesty, destructive reactions stop feeling good. Self-sabotage loses its appeal.

Because why tear down something you’re finally learning to build?

Pain Is a Teacher Not a Home

Pain is meant to inform you—not define you.

It shows you where boundaries are needed.
It highlights what isn’t aligned.
It reveals patterns asking to be broken.

But pain is not meant to be lived in.

When you respond with curiosity instead of chaos, pain becomes data. And data leads to discernment. And discernment leads to peace.

That’s growth.

Turning Pain Into a Gift

You may have never paused to ask yourself how you typically respond to pain.

So the next time it shows up, try this:

Strip away the story.
Remove the emotional overlay.
Look at the facts.

What actually happened?
What role did you play?
What part was within your control?
What can you learn?

When you do this, pain stops being something that happens to you—and becomes something that works for you.

The greatest gift pain can offer is information.

And information, used wisely, changes everything.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: What do you believe is the main source of pain in your life right now?
L: How much of that pain are you creating, allowing, or repeatedly engaging with?
A: When pain shows up, do you tend to react or respond—and how is that serving you?
Y: What could change if you chose to learn from pain instead of letting it control you?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
How has your response to pain shaped your growth—or where do you feel called to respond differently now?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck believing pain itself is the path, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.