Nothing You Say or Do Is Too Bad to Tell Somebody

For most of my life, I believed there were things about me that were too dark, too shameful, too unforgivable to share. I told myself, no one could handle the truth about me.

So, I kept secrets. I smiled when I was breaking. I said, “I’m fine,” when I wasn’t. I built walls out of silence—strong, tall, and unshakeable.

But what I didn’t know back then was that silence doesn’t protect you. It poisons you.

The belief that “there’s nothing I say or do that is too bad to tell somebody” didn’t come to me easily. It came after years of hiding, years of shame, and years of trying to heal alone.


Shame Thrives in Silence

Shame wants to keep you quiet. It whispers that if anyone knew the truth, they’d leave. That you’d be judged. Rejected. Unlovable.

But here’s what I’ve learned: when you say the thing you’ve been afraid to say, you take away shame’s power.

I’ve watched people share their deepest secrets—addiction, abuse, betrayal, trauma—and instead of being met with disgust, they were met with compassion.

That’s the thing about truth—it connects us.

No matter how different our experiences are, the feelings underneath are universal. Fear. Regret. Guilt. Loneliness. And when we share those feelings, we remind each other we’re human.


The Lie of “Too Much”

Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that vulnerability equals weakness. That we should keep it together, hold it in, and never show the messy parts.

We learned to say, “It’s no big deal,” when it was.
We learned to minimize our pain so others wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
We learned to smile instead of speak.

But here’s the truth: you are not “too much.” You are not too broken, too complicated, or too far gone.

The things you’re afraid to say out loud are often the things that will set you free.

When you find someone safe—a therapist, a friend, a sponsor, a mentor—and tell them what you’ve been holding, it stops controlling you.

You break the cycle of secrecy.
You interrupt the story shame keeps replaying.
You step into healing.


The Power of Being Heard

When I finally opened up about the things I thought were “too bad to tell anybody,” I was terrified. My voice shook. My stomach twisted. I almost didn’t go through with it.

But I did.

And when I did, something incredible happened—I didn’t fall apart. I was held.

That moment taught me something I’ll never forget:

The human heart is built to hold not only our own pain, but the pain of others too.

We are meant to carry one another.

Healing happens in connection. It happens when someone looks at you and says, “Me too.”

That simple acknowledgment is enough to make the walls you’ve built start to crumble.


You Are Not Your Mistakes

You are not the things you’ve done. You are not the worst decision you’ve made. You are not the shame someone else handed you.

We all make mistakes. We all have moments we wish we could rewrite. But those moments don’t define you—they refine you.

When you find the courage to speak your truth, you stop living in fear of being found out. You realize that nothing you’ve done disqualifies you from love, belonging, or forgiveness.

And the more honest you become, the freer you get.

Honesty is the antidote to shame.


How to Begin Speaking Your Truth

If you’ve spent your life believing there are things too bad to share, here’s where to start:

  1. Find a safe person. This could be a trusted friend, a sponsor, or a counselor. Safety is key.
  2. Start small. You don’t have to unload everything at once. Begin with what feels manageable.
  3. Be honest with yourself first. Write it down, say it out loud to the mirror, or pray about it. Naming your truth gives it form.
  4. Expect discomfort. Vulnerability is brave, and bravery rarely feels comfortable.
  5. Stay open to compassion. People can surprise you. Let them.

The point isn’t to confess for pity—it’s to connect for healing.


Freedom Lives in the Light

Every time you tell the truth about your story, you let the light in.

You start to see that your worst moments were also your teachers. That the parts of you you’ve tried to bury have shaped your strength, empathy, and resilience.

And once you realize that, you can’t go back.

You can’t go back to pretending you’re fine.
You can’t go back to silencing yourself.
You can’t go back to believing you’re unworthy of love.

Because once you’ve been met with compassion where you expected judgment, you know the truth:

There is nothing you can say or do that is too bad to tell somebody.

Not because it wasn’t bad—but because you’re still worthy. Always have been. Always will be.


SLAY Reflection

  1. What’s one truth you’ve been afraid to speak?
  2. Who in your life feels safe enough to share it with?
  3. How has silence kept you stuck?
  4. What might freedom look like if you let someone in?
  5. How can you show that same compassion to someone else today?

S – Speak your truth, even if your voice shakes
L – Let go of the shame that keeps you small
A – Allow yourself to be seen and supported
Y – Yield to healing—connection over isolation


Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What truth did you finally speak—and how did it change you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s carrying something they think is “too bad to tell anybody,” send this to them.
Sometimes, all it takes is one brave share to set someone free.

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.