mental wellness

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.

The Person Who Doesn’t Value You Is Blocking You From The One Who Will

Why do we stay?
Why do we stay when we’re not appreciated, understood, supported, or loved?
Why do we hold on when someone doesn’t see our value—or worse, tries to diminish it?

There are reasons.
And then there are excuses.

But the truth is this: when we stay in places where we’re not seen, there’s no room for someone who will see us.

When You Don’t See Your Own Value

Before I stepped onto this path, I never considered whether someone valued me—or if I truly valued them. I brought people into my life based on what I needed in the moment. I thought I cared, and maybe I did. But I didn’t value them as whole, spiritual beings—because I didn’t value myself.

I didn’t think I was worthy.
Not of love.
Not of kindness.
Not of real connection.

So I stayed where I wasn’t valued because, deep down, I didn’t believe I deserved to be.

Healing Changes Everything

That changed when I made the decision to get well.
Through recovery, I worked on self-love, self-worth, and self-respect. And with every honest step I took, I began to see my own value—and I started seeking people who could see it, too.

It’s easy to find yourself in a relationship or friendship where your light slowly dims. Where you stop being seen. Where you’re asked to make yourself smaller to make someone else feel big.

But the real question is:
Have you stopped showing your true self? Have you dulled your light to fit in?

Letting Go to Let the Right Ones In

We don’t have to make ourselves smaller to be loved.

If something feels off… if your needs aren’t heard… if blame is being placed on you again and again—it’s time to pause and take a real, honest look.

When someone sees your worth, you’ll know.
There will be respect, support, and a genuine desire to help you grow.

You can’t be open to receive that love if you’re holding on to someone who doesn’t value you.
Let go. Create space. Open your heart.

You might just make room for the greatest love of your life.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Do you feel valued in your relationships?

  • If not, why are you still staying?

  • What value do you see in yourself today? What value are you ignoring?

  • Describe yourself in 5 words. What do they reveal about your truth?

  • Who in your life truly sees and supports you—and who doesn’t?

You hold the key to who you allow into your life.
Only open the door for those who see your light—and help it shine even brighter.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’ve reclaimed your worth and made room for better in your life?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s holding on to a relationship that’s dimming their light, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder: we’re worth more.

Setting Them Free Frees You

There was a time in my life when I thought holding onto anger meant strength.
That if I stayed upset long enough, if I replayed what happened often enough, somehow justice would balance itself out.

But the truth I eventually had to face was much simpler and much harder:

Resentment does not bind the other person. It binds you.

And when I finally understood that, everything about forgiveness started to shift.

Because letting someone go was never about them.
It was always about me.

About my peace.
My energy.
My ability to move forward without dragging the past behind me like a heavy suitcase I never unpacked.

And maybe you have felt that too.

When Anger Becomes an Attachment

Holding resentment creates a strange connection.
Even if someone is no longer physically in your life, emotionally they still occupy space.

You think about them.
You replay conversations.
You imagine what you would say if given another chance.
You rehearse arguments in your head that may never happen.

I have done all of that.

And honestly, it was exhausting.

There is a saying that resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.
I resisted that idea at first because it felt too dramatic.

But over time I saw how accurate it was.

My sleep suffered.
My mood shifted.
My joy dimmed.
And none of it affected the other person at all.

That realization was sobering.

Because suddenly it was clear: I was not punishing them.
I was punishing myself.

Forgiveness Is Not About Letting Them Off the Hook

This part is important, and I wish someone had said it to me sooner.

Forgiveness does not mean:

  • What happened was acceptable

  • You have to reconnect with the person

  • You forget the experience

  • You stop having feelings about it

Forgiveness simply means you decide not to keep carrying the emotional weight anymore.

That is it.

You are not excusing behavior.
You are reclaiming your peace.

And honestly, that is one of the most self loving choices you can make.

My Turning Point

For me, the shift happened gradually, not all at once.

I realized that staying angry kept me anchored in moments I did not want to relive.
It kept my attention focused backward instead of forward.

And I had worked too hard on healing, growth, and self awareness to keep sacrificing my peace for someone else’s actions.

So I started asking myself a different question:

Does holding onto this help me become who I want to be?

The answer was always no.

Every single time.

That is when I began to understand that setting someone free emotionally was actually setting myself free.

What Letting Go Actually Looks Like

Forgiveness is rarely a dramatic moment.
It is often a quiet internal decision.

Sometimes it looks like:

Choosing not to revisit the story again
Deciding not to engage in conversations that reopen the wound
Redirecting your energy toward your own life
Allowing space for new experiences

And sometimes it is as simple as saying, internally:

“I release this. I deserve peace.”

You do not even have to tell the other person.

Often, forgiveness is an entirely private act.

Steps That Helped Me Move Forward

There was no single formula, but there were a few things that consistently helped.

Acceptance

I had to accept that the event happened exactly as it did.
Not how I wished it had happened.
Not how I thought it should have happened.

Just reality.

Acceptance removes the constant mental argument with the past.

And that alone can bring enormous relief.

Finding Growth

Even painful situations carry information.

Sometimes they teach us boundaries.
Sometimes they sharpen our intuition.
Sometimes they show us what we will never tolerate again.

Growth does not justify the hurt.
But it can transform it.

And transformation is powerful.

Perspective

Looking at situations from another angle does not excuse behavior.
It simply broadens understanding.

People act from their own wounds, fears, and limitations.

Recognizing that helped me detach emotionally without minimizing my experience.

Checking What Serves You

This was the biggest one for me.

Does holding onto anger improve your life?
Your health?
Your relationships?
Your happiness?

Usually, it does not.

Letting go often serves you far more than staying angry ever could.

Creating Closure Yourself

Sometimes, closure never comes externally.

No apology.
No explanation.
No final conversation.

Learning to create closure internally is a life skill.

Writing a letter you never send.
Talking it through with a trusted friend.
Praying, meditating, journaling.

Whatever works for you.

Closure is not always given.
Sometimes it is chosen.

Freedom Is the Real Goal

When I released resentments, I noticed something surprising:

I had more energy.
More creativity.
More patience.
More emotional bandwidth for the people who actually deserved it.

Forgiveness cleared space.

And that space allowed joy back in.

Not immediately.
But steadily.

Protecting Peace Going Forward

Forgiveness does not mean repeating patterns.

In fact, it often makes boundaries clearer.

You can forgive and still:

Limit contact
Change how you engage
Choose distance
Protect your emotional well-being

Forgiveness and boundaries are not opposites.
They often work together beautifully.

A Note From My Heart to Yours

If you are holding onto anger right now, I get it.

Truly.

There were times I thought I would never let certain things go.
Times I believed my anger was justified and permanent.

But I promise you this:

Peace feels better than being right.
Freedom feels better than holding a grudge.
Healing feels better than staying stuck.

You deserve that.

Not someday.
Now.

SLAY Reflection

Surrender
What resentment are you currently carrying?

Listen
How does holding onto it affect your emotional well-being?

Accept
Can you accept the reality of what happened without rewriting it?

Yield
What would letting go create space for in your life?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I would love to hear from you.
Have you ever experienced freedom after letting go of resentment or forgiving someone?

Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who might need this reminder, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Don’t Co- Sign Someone Else’s Bullsh*t

We’ve all done it.
Gone along with something we didn’t believe in.
Put our needs aside to fix someone else’s mess.
Jumped into a problem that wasn’t ours to solve.

And let’s be honest—sometimes, we did it because it made us feel needed.
Valued.
Important.

But here’s the truth: you are not responsible for cleaning up someone else’s willful choices.

When someone makes a bad decision—especially if it’s part of a pattern—and ends up in crisis, it is not your job to bail them out.
And rushing to do so over and over?
That’s not kindness.
That’s co-signing their bullsh*t.

The Emotional Vampire Tactic

I’ve written before about Emotional Vampires—those who feed off our time, energy, and attention.
And one of the tactics they use is convincing you to validate their chaos.

They want you to:

  • Validate their story

  • Co-sign their drama

  • Confirm their narrative that they’re always the victim

You are not required to be a supporting character in someone else’s self-destructive script.

Yes, we all need help sometimes.
And yes, it’s okay to ask for it.
But there’s a massive difference between someone reaching out for support and someone handing you a flaming mess they created—and expecting you to carry it while they sit back and light another match.

Been There, Done That

Before I walked this path, I was very familiar with this dynamic—because I was the one doing it.

I would avoid reality, avoid responsibility, and let things spiral until they became unmanageable. Then I’d panic, cry, and call for help.
And when someone came running? I felt a high.
A quick, fleeting sense of love and validation.

But it never lasted.
Because deep down, I knew I had created the crisis.
And I wasn’t learning anything from it—except how to get better at playing the victim.

That cycle drained me. And it wore out the people around me.
I’m grateful I don’t live that way anymore.
And when I see it in others now, I recognize it for what it is:
a trap.
For them—and for me.

Help Should Be a Two-Way Street

Being supportive doesn’t mean sacrificing yourself.

You can help someone—as long as they’re helping themselves.
If they’re taking action, being honest, and working toward change, that’s one thing.

But if they keep coming back with the same drama, expecting you to fix it while they do nothing?
That’s not support.
That’s codependency.

And here’s the hard truth:
Helping someone who isn’t helping themselves doesn’t help anyone.

If they’re repeating the same mistakes…
If they’re ignoring their own well-being…
If they’re draining your energy without ever filling their own cup…
You don’t have to step in.

Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is step back.

Stand Tall, Not in the Mess

Next time someone comes calling, ask yourself:

  • Are they asking for help—or a savior?

  • Is this a one-time situation—or a repeated pattern?

  • Are you working with them—or doing all the heavy lifting yourself?

If the facts don’t add up…
If your energy is being drained…
If your needs are constantly pushed aside for theirs…

That’s your answer.

You were not put on this earth to fix people who have no intention of changing.
You’re here to build and protect a life that’s worth living—and that includes knowing when to say no.

So the next time someone tries to pull you into their storm, remember:
You can love someone and still choose yourself.
You can care deeply and still walk away from the chaos.

SLAY Reflection: Are You Co-Signing the Chaos?

  1. Do you have people in your life who always seem to be in crisis?
    How often do they turn to you to fix it?

  2. Are you helping—or doing all the work for them?
    What toll does that take on you?

  3. Have you been in this dynamic more than once with the same person?
    Why do you think it keeps happening?

  4. What would it look like to support someone without sacrificing yourself?
    Can you draw that boundary?

  5. What’s one step you can take today to protect your energy and stop co-signing someone else’s drama?
    What would choosing yourself look like in this situation?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one situation where you realized helping someone was actually hurting you—and how did you take your power back?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck playing the fixer, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Don’t Play Victim To The Circumstances You Created

Let’s get real for a moment.

We don’t always make the best choices. Sometimes we act on impulse. Sometimes we ignore red flags. And sometimes, even with every sign pointing us in a better direction, we choose to go the other way—and then cry foul when things fall apart.

But here’s the truth: if we knowingly put ourselves in a bad situation, we don’t get to play the victim when the outcome isn’t what we hoped for.

That might sound harsh, but it’s a lesson many of us—myself included—have had to learn the hard way.

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

Owning Our Choices

Back when I was living in the dark, I made a lot of questionable choices. And truthfully, I often knew they weren’t the right ones. But I made them anyway. Why? Because deep down I believed I didn’t deserve good things. I believed I was broken. So I acted in ways that reinforced that belief—sabotaging myself, then turning around and asking why the world was so unfair.

What I was really doing was manipulating the narrative to fit the story I had already decided about myself:
I’m a bad person. Bad things happen to me. I deserve it.

It was a cycle of self-sabotage. And every time it backfired—as I knew it would—I’d call out for sympathy. And when that didn’t come fast enough or in the way I wanted? I felt even more victimized.

Sound familiar?

A New Way Forward

Everything changed when I started believing I was worthy of love—and that I deserved good things. When I embraced self-worth, my decision-making shifted. I started making choices that supported the life I wanted, not the one I feared I was stuck in.

Were those decisions always easy? No. But they were rooted in truth. In integrity. In strength.

When we know better and choose better, we don’t need to cry out for sympathy—we stand in our power. We hold ourselves accountable. And we become the kind of person we’re proud of.

You Are Not a Victim of Yourself

This isn’t about perfection. We all mess up. We all learn. Life will always throw curveballs—some we never saw coming. But there’s a difference between an honest misstep and a willful march toward chaos.

If you’ve been given the tools, the truth, the gut feeling—and you still go against it—own the outcome.

That’s not failure. That’s growth.

So when you find yourself at a crossroads, pause. Ask:

  • Am I acting from fear, or from love?
  • Is this the path I truly believe will serve me, or am I just clinging to comfort?

Make decisions from your strength—not your sabotage.

Stand tall. Stand proud. And take responsibility for the life you’re building—one choice at a time.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

Do you make decisions that you know aren’t in your best interest?

  • What drives those choices?
  • Do you expect others to rescue you when things go wrong?
  • How do you feel when people don’t show up the way you want them to?
  • What would it look like to choose differently next time?
  • Write a list of 5 reasons you deserve good things in your life. Keep it close.
    Let those reasons guide you toward better choices—choices that bring you peace, not pain.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one shift you’ve made that helped you stop sabotaging your peace and start standing in your power?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who keeps repeating the same patterns, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that we’re worth the work.

Sometimes You Just Need A Good Cry

We’re often taught to hold it together, to keep a straight face, to brush it off. For years, I believed that crying meant I was weak—that I wasn’t strong enough, brave enough, or resilient enough. So I did what many of us do: I stuffed it down. I distracted myself. I numbed out. I pretended I was fine.

Until I couldn’t anymore.

Eventually, the pain started leaking through the cracks. It came out in moments I couldn’t control—late at night, alone on the floor, sobbing into the silence. I was breaking down in private because I didn’t feel safe enough to break open in front of anyone else.

Permission to Feel

In my June SLAY TALK LIVE livestream, I shared how someone once gave me a gift I didn’t know I needed: permission to feel sad.

It was such a simple moment. I was fighting back tears in front of a friend, terrified they’d think less of me. I had built this perfectly polished image, and I wasn’t about to let a few tears ruin it.

But then, they looked at me and said gently, “It’s okay to cry.” And just like that, the dam broke.

What followed wasn’t pretty. It was messy. Emotional. Overwhelming. Years of grief, heartbreak, disappointment, and pain all rose to the surface. But instead of pushing it back down, I let it out—in front of someone else. I stopped hiding.

And the most surprising thing? It didn’t push them away. It brought us closer.

Crying Isn’t Weakness—It’s Release

No, I wasn’t crying on cue or sobbing through every meeting. But when I felt the tears come, I didn’t edit myself. I let them roll. And each time, I reminded myself: this is healthy, this is human.

It turns out, crying didn’t make me less lovable. It made me real. And it connected me to others who had felt the same pain—or were still working through it.

Unexpressed pain doesn’t just disappear. It stores itself in your body, in your mind, and in your relationships.

When we don’t let ourselves feel, we carry that weight in unhealthy ways. It shows up as anxiety, illness, irritability, or disconnection. There is no strength in pretending it’s not there. But there is deep, quiet power in releasing it.

Of course, timing matters. There are appropriate spaces to let it all out—and when the tears come unexpectedly, you can still honor them. I’ve excused myself from meetings, slipped into a restroom, cried it out, washed my face, and come back lighter. There’s nothing wrong with needing a moment.

Let Your Truth Show

The people who deserve a place in your life won’t shame you for being emotional. They’ll hold space. They’ll nod in understanding. They might even cry with you.

You don’t have to go through life with your emotions locked behind a wall. Vulnerability invites connection. And connection brings healing.

There’s always a reason we feel what we feel. Sometimes it’s grief. Sometimes it’s anger. Sometimes, it’s the echo of something unhealed. If we ignore it, we stay stuck. But if we honor it, we grow.

Tears can be a sign. That a person or situation isn’t right for you. Or that something buried deep inside is asking to be seen. Sometimes, it’s just that you’re finally safe enough to feel.

So let yourself feel. Get sloppy. Get snotty. Get real. Sometimes, a good cry is the most powerful thing you can do.

Let the healing begin.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you let people see your emotions? Why or why not?
  2. What’s your relationship with crying—do you see it as strength or weakness?
  3. When was the last time you gave yourself permission to cry?
  4. Is there something you’ve been holding in that needs to be released?
  5. Who in your life can hold space for your tears without judgment?

S – Sit with what’s rising instead of stuffing it down
L – Let the tears come, even if they feel uncomfortable
A – Accept that feeling doesn’t make you fragile—it makes you whole
Y – Yield to healing by letting yourself release what hurts

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What emotions have you been holding in that might be ready to be released?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s afraid to cry, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.