You Become The Fears You Dwell On

Most of us have fears.
It’s part of being human.
But when we give too much focus and energy to fear, we risk becoming exactly what we fear most.

Fear can be sneaky like that. It creeps in, takes root, and grows stronger the more we feed it. Eventually, it can start to shape how we think, how we act, and even how we show up in the world—often without us even realizing it.

Fear can become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
What we focus on, we feed.
And what we feed, grows.


Fear Is an Invitation

I’ve written before about attracting the kind of energy we want in our lives.
When we live in fear—or negativity—that’s often what ends up circling back to us.

It’s not magic. It’s not instant karma.
It’s energy.
It’s focus.
It’s the silent agreement we make with our fears every time we let them lead.

When I was living in my illness, I was consumed by fear.
It was everywhere—under the surface of every thought, every decision.
And the more I ignored it, the more power it had.
I didn’t want to face it, so I tried to numb it, outrun it, distract myself from it.

But fear doesn’t disappear just because we look away.
It waits. It grows. And eventually, I started to become what I feared most.


When Fear Becomes Identity

I was aware of what was happening.
And still, I didn’t stop it.

I fed my fears with avoidance, with negative thinking, with silence.
And my fear evolved into a kind of paralysis—I couldn’t see a way out, and I wasn’t asking for one.

But then a different kind of fear showed up—the kind that keeps us safe.
The kind that whispers, “You can’t keep going like this.”
The kind that leads to action.

I was terrified of being judged, of being labeled “crazy,” of being too far gone to help.
But I was also terrified of where my life was headed if I didn’t get help.

And that good fear? It won.
I reached out.
I asked for help.
And for the first time, I found a door out.


Reclaiming Power Over Fear

I’ve learned that I don’t have to live in fear.
I still feel it, yes—because again, I’m human.
But I don’t live there anymore.

I’ve learned to acknowledge it when it shows up and then move through it.

Today, I focus on:

  • What I want to see in my life
  • What I hope for
  • What positive energy I can put into the world

I’ve built a spiritual connection that guides me and keeps me grounded.
I stay open to signs and nudges from the universe.
And I trust that fear is not something I have to surrender to.
It’s something I can listen to—but not let lead.


Use Fear as a Signal—Not a Sentence

Fear can be a compass.
Sometimes it points to the exact place where we need to do the most work.

Ask yourself:

  • What am I really afraid of?
  • What small action could I take to begin facing that fear?
  • What would it feel like to stop giving that fear so much power?

This is a challenging time.
But it’s also the perfect time to focus on the good you want to create—for yourself, for your family, for your life.

You don’t have to become what you fear.
You can choose something different.

You can choose to SLAY.


SLAY Reflection: How Are You Using Your Fear?

  1. Do you tend to live in fear or let fear guide your decisions?
    What are you most afraid of right now?
  2. Do you notice yourself becoming what you fear?
    What behaviors or beliefs might be feeding that?
  3. What action could you take today to work through your fear—just one small step?
    What would shift if you took it?
  4. How does fear affect your energy and mindset?
    What happens when you redirect your focus?
  5. How can you bring more positive action into your life today?
    Where can you reclaim your power?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one fear you’re ready to stop feeding, and what action can you take today to move through it?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in fear or letting it lead their life, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

You Attract What You Are, Not What You Want

How many times have you asked yourself,
Why do I keep attracting the same kinds of people?
Why do the same patterns keep showing up in my life?
Why does it feel like I’m stuck in a loop?

It’s easy to think we’re just unlucky—or cursed with bad timing or bad energy.
But the truth is often more revealing: we attract what we put out.

And sometimes, what we think we’re putting out…
isn’t what we’re actually radiating at all.


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


What You Are Speaks Louder Than What You Want

We might see ourselves as kind, supportive, open-hearted people.
We might aspire to positivity, confidence, love, and light.
But if our actions and mindset don’t align with that energy…
we’ll keep attracting something very different.

What shows up in your life isn’t a reflection of your intentions.
It’s a reflection of your state of being.

That’s the hard truth. And also the empowering one.


My Experience: Living in the Dark

When I was deep in my illness, I often wondered why negativity seemed to follow me.
I’d joke that I must’ve done something awful in a past life.

But it wasn’t the universe punishing me—it was me.
It was my thoughts.
My energy.
My expectations.
And my refusal to face how much negativity I was quietly living in.

I tried to be a good person.
I wanted good things.
But my inner dialogue was toxic.
Even when something good would happen, I’d sabotage it with fear, doubt, or shame.

I didn’t feel like a negative person.
But I was living like one.
And the results matched that energy.


You Can’t Fool the Energy Around You

When I began my recovery, I started to see the pattern clearly.

If I expected the worst—I got it.
If I looked for the bad—I found it.
If I pretended to be positive—but was silently drowning in self-judgment—it didn’t matter.
Because energy doesn’t lie.

It wasn’t enough to want better.
I had to become better.

When I did the work—honest, vulnerable, sometimes painful work—things began to shift.

More light came into my life.
More supportive people.
More peace.

Did negativity disappear? Of course not.
But I stopped being drawn to it—and it stopped being drawn to me.


Live It to Attract It

We don’t attract what we hope for.
We attract who we are.

So if the patterns in your life aren’t what you want, don’t just ask, “Why does this keep happening?”
Ask:
“What energy am I really putting into the world?”
“Am I living the way I want to be loved, supported, and respected?”

Because life doesn’t respond to who you say you are.
It responds to how you live.

When you align your heart, mind, and actions with who you want to become—
That’s when the shift happens.
That’s when the energy changes.
And that’s when the right people and opportunities begin to show up.


SLAY Reflection: What Are You Attracting?

  1. Are you attracting people or situations that leave you feeling drained or dissatisfied?
    What patterns do you notice?
  2. What don’t you like about what’s showing up—and could it reflect something within you?
    How might your mindset or habits be contributing?
  3. Are you being honest with yourself about the energy you’re giving off?
    What might need to shift?
  4. What would it look like to live as the version of you you want to attract?
    What’s one step toward that today?
  5. How would your life change if you aligned your energy with your true values?
    What would start showing up?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one shift you’ve made that changed what you were attracting into your life—and how did it impact you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who keeps wondering why the same patterns keep repeating, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

A Permanent Solution To A Temporary Problem

When I was living in the dark, I believed every problem was forever.
Each issue felt massive, heavy, and permanent.
I didn’t think in steps—I thought in panic.
And when I finally acted, it was usually out of desperation instead of intention.

I didn’t face things as they came.
I waited.
I hoped things would magically resolve themselves.
And when they didn’t, I reacted impulsively.
The result?
I made permanent decisions for temporary problems.

Back then, I only had two tools in my emotional toolkit: fight or flight.
And neither got me where I wanted to go.


Living in Avoidance Creates Bigger Problems

I often felt overwhelmed just by life itself.
So when a real issue came up, it was too much.
I ignored it.
I pushed it aside.
And when it inevitably resurfaced—louder, heavier, messier—I made whatever decision would make it go away the fastest.

But the quickest choice isn’t always the right one.
And those choices came at a cost.

Doors closed.
Friendships ended.
I isolated myself even more.

It wasn’t because I was heartless or careless.
It was because I was exhausted, reactive, and afraid.
And I didn’t trust that I could handle hard things in a healthy way.


What Recovery Taught Me About Decisions

When I began my journey in recovery, one of the first things I heard was:
“Live life on life’s terms.”

That didn’t sound like fun.
But neither was the anxiety of constantly avoiding things, or the shame of regret from acting out of fear.

So I tried something new.

I started addressing things as they came up.
I got honest about what was happening.
I asked for help when I needed it.
And I made the best decision I could with the information I had.

Then—I let it go.

Even typing that?
It still feels like a deep exhale.


The Power of Responding, Not Reacting

Here’s what I learned:
When you meet problems in the moment, you keep them in their right size.

You don’t allow them to grow into something overwhelming.
You don’t back yourself into a corner.
You don’t hit the panic button and take drastic action that you’ll later wish you hadn’t.

You give yourself the chance to choose a solution, not a reaction.

Because the truth is, a lot of the things we avoid aren’t actually that big.
They only feel big because we’ve been sitting in fear, feeding them with delay.

But when you face a problem early and with intention, you take back your power.
You act instead of react.
And you protect your peace in the process.


You Deserve Better Than Regret

These days, it’s easy to feel like everything is too much.
But avoidance won’t make it easier.
And quick-fix decisions rarely leave us proud of how we showed up.

You don’t need to solve everything perfectly.
You just need to do the next right thing.
Address what needs your attention, make the best decision you can, and then—let it go.

Honor yourself enough to stop running from the things that need your care.
You are capable.
And you deserve peace, not permanent regret from a temporary storm.


SLAY Reflection: Are You Choosing Peace or Panic?

  1. Do you tend to ignore problems until they become bigger than they need to be?
    How has that affected your life?
  2. What emotions drive your decision-making—clarity or anxiety?
    What patterns do you notice?
  3. Have you ever made a permanent choice in a moment of panic?
    What did you learn from that experience?
  4. What would it feel like to address issues with intention instead of urgency?
    How could that shift your daily peace?
  5. What’s one problem you’ve been avoiding that you can face today—with care, calm, and clarity?
    What’s the next small step?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one moment where you learned the value of pausing instead of panicking—and how did it shape your choices going forward?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s caught in reactive patterns, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

The Stories From Our Past

Before I began my recovery journey, I lived by stories that weren’t mine. I believed I was different. Less-than. Unworthy of good things. And I made decisions from that place—choosing people and situations that reinforced the story I was already telling myself.

Even the small things stuck. A dismissive comment. A look. A joke that hit too close to home. I internalized those moments and built my identity around them. And as I kept repeating those stories to myself, I gave them power. I let them define me.

When I finally sought help for my mental health, one of the first exercises I was given was to write down all the things I believed about myself. Most were negative. Then came the harder part: asking if those things were actually true.

It turned out, most of them weren’t. They were stories I had inherited. And I had the power to release them.


Telling a New Story

Doing the work—challenging those false beliefs—wasn’t easy. But with time, support, and a lot of self-reflection, I began to rewrite the script.

I started telling myself the truth.

That I’m capable. That I’m worthy. That I’m more than enough.

The stories from my past didn’t disappear. But they no longer control me. Today, I use them as tools. When those old narratives resurface, I pause. I ask myself: Is this true? Is this helping me grow? Is this a story I want to keep?

And if the answer is no, I let it go.

Instead, I choose to tell stories of healing. Of courage. Of growth. I choose relationships that reflect the truth of who I am, not the lies I once believed.

You get to choose your story, too.

SLAY on.


SLAY Reflection: What Story Are You Living?

  • Are you holding onto any stories from childhood that no longer serve you?
  • Who or what shaped those beliefs—and are they actually true?
  • What have those stories cost you in your adult life?
  • What’s one belief you could rewrite today?
  • What story would you rather live—and what’s one small step you can take toward it?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one story from your past you’re ready to rewrite?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s still living by an old story that isn’t serving them, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that we’re the ones holding the pen.

Carrying A Message Of Hope

It wasn’t a dramatic moment. There were no grand speeches or earth-shattering revelations. Just a quiet, honest story from someone who had been through it, too. A simple retelling of a journey—his lowest lows and the moment he decided to ask for help.

That story gave me the courage to reach out. It was the first spark of hope that told me maybe I didn’t have to stay where I was. Maybe change was possible. Maybe I could begin again.

That is the power of carrying a message of hope. And it’s why I do what I do now.


We All Need a Spark

Hope doesn’t always come with fanfare. Often, it shows up in the form of a shared experience. In someone else’s voice. In a message that says, “You are not alone. I’ve been there, too.”

Especially in challenging times—when life feels uncertain or heavy—those stories matter more than ever. We may feel isolated, ashamed, or like our pain is too much of a burden to place on anyone else. But when someone dares to tell their truth, they give permission for others to speak theirs.

And sometimes, that’s all it takes to change a life.

We weren’t meant to do this alone. I know I couldn’t have walked this path without the people who were willing to share their light when mine had gone dim. Whether it was a friend, a professional, or someone who simply saw me and cared enough to reach out—each one helped carry me forward. Now I do the same.


Your Story Has Power

We often think our story isn’t worth sharing. That it’s too messy, too painful, or not inspirational enough. But that’s not true.

Your story—exactly as it is—might be the one someone else needs to hear. It might be the bridge that helps them cross from fear to courage, from shame to honesty, from isolation to connection. You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to be real.

Kindness counts. Connection heals. And hope spreads when we pass it on.


Simple Acts, Big Impact

During difficult seasons, I’ve learned to slow down, keep things simple, and focus on the people, practices, and projects that bring me joy. That is what fuels me.

Hope isn’t loud. Sometimes it’s a quiet hello. A knowing glance. A kind message. A reminder that someone cares.

Today, offer your story. Offer your presence. Offer your hope. You never know who needs it—including you.

SLAY on.


SLAY Reflection: Share the Light

  • Have you ever received hope from someone else’s story? What impact did it have on you?
  • Do you find it easy or difficult to share your truth with others? Why?
  • Is there someone in your life who could benefit from your experience?
  • What stops you from reaching out—and what could help you move through that fear?
  • How can you carry a message of hope in your own way, today?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Who carried a message of hope to you—and how are you carrying it forward?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who could use a little light, send this to them.
Sometimes, hope is hiding in someone else’s words.

At A Rare Loss For Words

It’s not often I’m at a loss for words. Ask anyone who knows me well, and they’ll tell you—I’ve always got something to say. But lately? Lately, I’ve felt more shaken. Disheartened. I’ve struggled to find the right words in the face of what feels like an unraveling of the world around me.

If you’ve been reading the blog or following State of Slay™ for a while, you know I try to focus on growth, light, and resilience. I look for the lesson. The shift. The silver lining. And I’ve been trying to do that even as it feels like the people and places around me are falling apart.

Yesterday, it hit hard. I sat in my car, parked outside a store, completely unable to get out. I was paralyzed by the weight of it all—the lies, the selfishness, the lack of empathy. I’ve been feeling it for a while now: the anxiety of living in a place that doesn’t feel safe, the exhaustion of building something meaningful in uncertain times, the strain of trying to uplift others when I’m struggling to hold myself up.

A friend recently said they missed my positive energy. I mentioned I’d been a little low, and they replied that they’d noticed—but didn’t ask why. Didn’t check in. I get it. We all have a lot going on. But if we lose that connection—if we stop checking in on each other—what do we have left?

I know how I’ve made it this far: community. Support. A deep belief that light exists, even when it’s dim. My flame may be flickering, but it’s not out. And I know where to look to ignite it again.


When Darkness Feeds Itself

Before recovery, I thrived in the dark. I fed off negativity. I surrounded myself with people who mirrored my pain—people who used me, hurt me, and validated my belief that I wasn’t worthy of love or light. I clung to the victim narrative because it was easier than owning my part.

That mindset? It’s poison. It makes you believe that happiness is something someone else gives you. But real happiness—the kind that lasts—comes from living with integrity. From taking responsibility for our actions, our energy, and our healing.

Recovery taught me that the road to peace is paved with truth. That my actions, not my intentions, define who I am. That I get to choose how I show up in the world. And that means something, especially in times like these.


Be the Person You’re Proud Of

We’re all going through something. Some days are heavier than others. But now more than ever, we need to lift each other up—not tear each other down. We need to ask the extra question, send the check-in text, give the benefit of the doubt.

We need to be someone we can be proud of.

A few months ago, I asked: When all of this is over, will you be proud of who you were?

If you hesitate to answer, it’s time to get honest.

Choose compassion. Choose kindness. Choose truth. Choose to be the light—even if your flame is just a spark right now.

SLAY on.


SLAY Reflection: Are You Someone You’d Be Proud Of?

  • Have you been living in integrity—with yourself and others?
  • Where have you fallen short? What can you do to make it right?
  • Are you showing up for others—or just for yourself?
  • What has your energy been like lately? How are you affecting the spaces you enter?
  • What’s one action you can take today to reconnect—with others and with yourself?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one thing you’ve done recently that made you proud—or one thing you want to do to course-correct?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s feeling disconnected or dim, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a little light to find our way back.

Living In Limbo

Before I began walking this path, I knew limbo well.

When I was living in my illness, I felt stuck. Paralyzed. Like life was moving forward around me while I stayed frozen in place. I wanted to believe I had no control, but the truth was—I was holding the key to my own cell.

I wasn’t taking action. I wasn’t doing the work. And when nothing changes, nothing changes.

Eventually, I reached a breaking point—and instead of breaking down, I reached out. I asked for help. I found support. I took one step, then another. Slowly, my life started to inch forward. Hope returned. Light returned. And I started to feel alive again.


Navigating the Now

I think of that time a lot lately.

Because while the world may feel paused again, I know I don’t have to be. I focus on what I can do each day to move things forward—mentally, emotionally, creatively, and spiritually. I pour energy into meaningful connections, creative projects, and quiet rituals that keep me grounded. I say yes to what feels good and nourishing, even if it’s just a cozy moment in pajamas with a good book.

Limbo doesn’t have to mean lifeless. We get to choose how we respond—and where we put our energy.

Yes, some days feel heavier than others. And yes, I still feel the ache of what’s been lost or put on hold. But I’ve learned that in this stillness, we also have an opportunity. To pause. To reflect. To renew. And to rise.


Limbo Isn’t the End

This chapter may feel uncertain, but it isn’t forever.

We can move forward—internally, emotionally, spiritually—even when the outside world feels stalled. Our gifts, our growth, our goals—they’re still here. They’re still possible.

And when the world begins to move again, we’ll be ready. Because we didn’t just wait—we used the pause to prepare.

SLAY on.


SLAY Reflection: What’s Your Relationship with Limbo?

  • Do you feel like your life is in limbo right now? How does that affect your daily mindset?
  • What small actions can help shift you out of a holding pattern?
  • Have you found new ways to connect, create, or rest during this time?
  • What unexpected lessons or strengths have emerged in this space between?
  • How can you show up for yourself today—even from a place of pause?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
How are you moving forward—even in the waiting?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s feeling stuck in the pause, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that we’re not standing still alone.

Be A Light, Not A Fixer

It’s in our nature to want to help—especially when someone we care about is struggling. We offer advice. We brainstorm solutions. We try to fix what’s broken. But more often than not, people don’t want to be fixed. They want to be seen. Heard. Accepted. And the greatest gift we can offer them isn’t a fix—it’s our light.


When Advice Isn’t What’s Needed

Before walking this path, I never wanted advice.

When someone tried to tell me how to live or what to do, I’d shut down. My ears would ring with resistance. I wasn’t ready to hear it—even when it came from love.

What did make a difference? Watching someone who had been where I was… live differently. Heal differently. Shine differently. Their life, not their advice, became the spark that lit something in me. It was their example—not their instruction—that showed me another way was possible.


We’re Not Here to Fix

Seeing someone in pain can awaken our need to act. We want to step in. To fix. To redirect. But when that urge becomes overwhelming or obsessive, it’s worth asking: What’s really going on inside me?

Being a fixer can sometimes be about control—about our discomfort with someone else’s struggle. But healing doesn’t work that way. It can’t be forced. It can only be chosen.

We’re most powerful when we walk the walk. When we focus on our own healing, our own growth, our own joy—and let that speak for itself.


Let Your Light Speak

Years ago, someone from my past reached out unexpectedly. We hadn’t always gotten along, and they’d never asked me for advice before. But something had shifted. They saw how I’d changed. How I was living. And they wanted to know how.

That conversation never would’ve happened if I’d tried to force a message down their throat. But because I simply lived my truth—and shared my light—they were able to find their own courage to ask for more.

Being a light isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being real. Radiating kindness. Living with integrity. And creating space where others can feel safe enough to begin their own healing.

So the next time you feel the pull to fix someone, pause. Instead, ask yourself how you can shine a little brighter today—and trust that your light is doing more than you think.

SLAY on.


SLAY Reflection: Are You a Fixer or a Light?

  • Do you often feel the urge to fix others? Where does that come from?
  • What usually happens when you try to solve someone else’s problems?
  • Have you been inspired by someone simply by the way they live? What stood out?
  • Are you open to letting others find their path in their own time?
  • How can you focus more on being an example rather than a solution?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
How have you learned to shine instead of fix?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s feeling the weight of wanting to fix it all, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a shift—from fixing to shining.

The Oops Factor

Growing up, I never left any room for mistakes. I expected myself to do everything perfectly—and when I didn’t, I beat myself up. I carried these unrealistic expectations with me through childhood, my teenage years, and well into adulthood, never giving myself permission to simply be human. The result? A constant negative narrative playing on loop in my head, convincing me I wasn’t good enough. Every mistake felt like proof of failure, which I used as an excuse to abandon self-care, spiral into self-doubt, and reinforce the lie that I could never get better.

I see now that none of that thinking was true. I made it feel true by keeping my struggles to myself and believing the cruelest voices in my mind. I nearly rode that train all the way into the station—but thankfully, I got off before the final stop.

The truth is: our mistakes are where we learn the most. They shape our character. They build the resilience we need to accomplish the things that really matter. No one is meant to get it right every time. The growth is in the slip-ups. That’s why we need to embrace what I call the “Oops Factor.”


What Perfectionism Really Cost Me

Expecting myself to be perfect—even when I knew better—set me up to fail. I’d aim impossibly high and, when I missed the mark (which was inevitable), I’d use that as ammunition to tear myself down. Even when I succeeded, I picked apart the outcome. I never gave myself permission to feel proud. That made relationships harder too. I lived in fear that people would see me for the fraud I thought I was.

Eventually, I reached a breaking point and asked for help. In that process, I learned something life-changing: mistakes are a sign that I’m trying. They mean I’m pushing myself. And even when things don’t work out the way I hoped, there’s always a lesson or a growth opportunity—often the real reason I was on that path in the first place.

Over time, I’ve learned to trust that I’m exactly where I need to be. My job is to take the next right step. I can’t control the outcome—just the intention behind the action. And when I show up with that mindset? It’s always a win. Trying is the victory. There’s always something to gain.


Make Room for the Oops

We’re all allowed to make mistakes. In fact, we should be making them. That’s how we grow.

Start leaving space for the Oops Factor in your life. When something doesn’t go as planned, look for the lesson—or simply laugh it off. Don’t let the fear of messing up keep you from taking risks or being yourself. Let go of the pressure to be perfect and redefine what success looks like. Maybe, just maybe, being exactly who you are today is enough.

Mistakes don’t define you. But how you respond to them just might.

SLAY on!


SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Do you expect yourself to be perfect?
  • How do you usually react when you make a mistake?
  • Does that response help you—or harm you?
  • What’s one belief about mistakes that you’re ready to let go of?
  • What’s one thing you’ve learned from a recent oops moment that helped you grow?

Give yourself permission to stumble. Learn, laugh, and get back up stronger.


Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you can show yourself more grace when you make a mistake?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s been stuck in a shame spiral, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a little reminder that it’s okay to mess up.

When You Judge Someone By Their Past It Can Make That Past Impossible To Escape

I’ve been thinking about this one for a while.

When someone works to change their life—truly change it—few things are more disheartening than being treated like they’re still the person they used to be. I’ve witnessed this over the years, most recently with someone I love. It’s a painful thing to watch: someone trying to climb out of the hole they once lived in, only to be reminded—through judgment, dismissal, or condescension—that some people refuse to see the progress they’ve made.

The truth is, when we judge someone by their past, we make it that much harder for them to escape it.


The Weight of Someone Else’s Words

I’ve written before about how some people in our lives might not want us to change. Not because they don’t love us—but because our growth disrupts the status quo they’ve grown comfortable with. Sometimes people don’t want us to get better because they liked the version of us who needed them. Or maybe they’re not ready to face their own discomfort, so they keep us boxed into the role they’re used to playing.

I’ve seen this happen recently to someone close to me. They’ve done the hard work to better themselves—mentally, spiritually, emotionally—but a family member still treats them like they’re stuck at their lowest point. The conversations aren’t supportive. They’re diminishing. And I’ve seen the toll it takes. That judgment acts like a chain, pulling them backward into a version of themselves they’ve outgrown.

Words matter. How people speak to us—and about us—can either reinforce our progress or unravel it.


Breaking the Cycle

When I committed to getting better, I was fortunate to have strong support. I leaned on my people hard in the beginning. And as I grew stronger, I leaned less—but that circle still stood beside me. Eventually, I began to notice who was genuinely happy for me and who wasn’t. And let me tell you: not everyone will cheer for your growth.

Some people liked me better when I was lost, because it made them feel more in control. Others preferred the version of me who didn’t challenge the status quo. But I had to remind myself that my healing wasn’t up for debate. I wasn’t going to stay stuck to keep someone else comfortable. And neither should you.

We are allowed to outgrow roles, relationships, and narratives that no longer serve us. We are allowed to heal—and to demand that the people in our lives meet us where we are now, not where we used to be.


Let Yourself Grow

You are not your past. You are not your mistakes. You are not the version of yourself that someone else insists on remembering.

You are your growth. You are your progress. You are your present—and your future.

Surround yourself with people who celebrate that. People who speak life into your healing, not those who try to hold you hostage to your history. Anyone who truly loves you will root for the best version of you. And that’s the kind of energy you deserve to have around you.

SLAY on.


SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Do the people in your life support your growth?
  • Are there voices in your circle that try to tie you to your past?
  • How do those interactions make you feel?
  • What can you do to distance yourself from that energy?
  • Who are the people that celebrate your healing? How can you keep them close?

You’re not defined by where you’ve been. You’re defined by who you choose to become.


Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’ve broken free from someone else’s perception of your past?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s ready to grow but feels weighed down by old narratives, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is to be seen for who we are becoming.