recovery journey

You Can Get Anything Done If You Don’t Need Credit For It

We live in a world obsessed with recognition—likes, shares, shout-outs. But what if your greatest impact comes from what no one sees? What if your legacy isn’t built on applause, but on quiet action? What if you stopped needing credit and just… did the thing?

That was a tough pill for me to swallow. I used to chase validation like it was the prize. If I didn’t get credit, did it even count? I justified everything I did—calling it generous, kind, helpful—but really, I wanted to be seen. I wanted acknowledgment. I wanted control. But all of that masked a deeper truth: I needed to feel enough.

When I began my recovery journey, I was given a powerful suggestion: do something kind for someone—and don’t tell anyone about it. At first, that felt… impossible. If no one knew, how could I feel worthy? But I tried it anyway. And you know what? It worked. Doing good for the sake of doing good shifted something in me.

You Don’t Need Credit to Be Powerful

Let’s be real—most of us were raised in a world where “good behavior” came with gold stars. We learned that praise = worth. But here’s the truth:

When you stop seeking applause, you start discovering real power.

Doing the right thing just because it’s right builds integrity, resilience, and self-trust. It silences the inner critic. It quiets the noise. And it rewires our motivation—not for performance, but for purpose.

If your only fuel is someone else’s approval, you’ll run out of gas fast. But when you’re moved by values, by love, by truth—you become unstoppable.

Get Focused On the Mission—Not the Applause

Too often we place the success of something on whether or not it’s recognized. We post, we share, we wait for the reaction—and when it doesn’t come? We question ourselves. We downplay the win. We wonder if it was worth it.

But here’s the thing: You get to be proud even if no one claps.

The moment you detach from needing praise, you become free. Free to create. Free to give. Free to lead. When your validation comes from within, the outside world can’t shake you.

That’s how you build self-esteem—by doing esteemable acts, especially when no one is watching. Your self-worth isn’t in their hands. It never was.

Do It for You—And Let That Be Enough

Start by asking yourself: Why am I doing this? Is it to feel connected? To make a difference? To step into your purpose? Let that be your anchor.

And when you do something kind, bold, or brave? Sit with it. Let the moment speak for itself. No need to announce it. No need to chase praise. You already did the thing.

That’s the win. That’s the reward. That’s the work.

You are enough—without the tag, the trophy, or the credit. Just you, showing up in quiet, powerful ways. That’s the kind of SLAY that shifts the world.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you struggle with needing validation after you’ve achieved something?
  2. How does seeking credit impact your relationships—with others or yourself?
  3. Have you ever done something anonymously or without recognition? How did it feel?
  4. What motivates you more—acknowledgment or impact?
  5. What would change if you started measuring success by how you feel rather than how you’re seen?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Serve from a place of purpose, not praise.
  • Let go of the need for credit.
  • Act with integrity—especially when no one’s watching.
  • You define your own worth.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever done something powerful without needing credit? How did that change you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck waiting for approval, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Write A Letter Of Forgiveness To Your Younger Self

I was new on this path, grappling with the weight of my past—the realization of where I had ended up, the choices I had made, and the harm I had done to myself. It felt almost too much to bear.

Then someone suggested something I’ll never forget:

Write a letter of forgiveness to your younger self.

Facing the Hurt

That suggestion stopped me in my tracks. The thought of facing the harm I had done to that innocent, hopeful little girl inside me made my heart sink.

I could see her—vulnerable, full of dreams—and I had failed her. Time and time again, I had ignored her needs, tried to extinguish her light.

But I wasn’t at a point to resist anything that might help me heal. So, I picked up a pen.

I didn’t plan or overthink. I just started writing. I pictured her face and humbly asked for her forgiveness. I poured out all the ways I had let her down, all the times I ignored her worth.

The tears came, but the apology flowed.

I was told to leave nothing out—whatever I held back might keep me sick. So, I wrote it all. And then I read it aloud.

Hearing it, facing it, was hard. But that letter didn’t just end in apology. It ended in a promise: a vow to love her better, to make choices that nurtured her and honored her existence.

That letter became my compass.

Keeping the Promise

When the days were hard, when the negative self-talk got loud, it was easy to throw myself under the bus. But it was harder to throw that little girl under there with me after making her a promise.

Seeing her face in my mind pushed me to keep going. As I healed, I pictured her smiling, cheering me on.

Every milestone became a love letter back to her.

Later, I wrote another letter—to the version of me who didn’t know better, who lacked the tools or courage to navigate life in a healthy way. I apologized to her too. And in that apology, I made a commitment: to learn, to grow, to make amends by living in the light.

A Path to Freedom

These letters were powerful steps in my journey of forgiveness. They opened the door to forgiving not just myself, but others too.

But it all started with me.

We’ve all let our younger selves down. We’ve all made choices we regret, or harbored resentment for things we didn’t know or couldn’t handle at the time. Writing these letters, making those promises—they can set us free.

So get your pen, SLAYER. You may have a letter to write today.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Do you harbor resentment toward yourself for your past?

  • What do you resent?

  • Do you believe you knew better or should have done better? How?

  • Do you look back and feel like you failed your younger self? In what ways?

  • What can you do today to make amends for that?

  • How can you find forgiveness for yourself?

  • How can you protect and honor your younger self today?

Forgive yourself for what you didn’t know. Aim to do better today. And when the days get hard, fiercely protect that younger version of yourself—you deserve it.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What would you say in a letter to your younger self today?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s support each other’s healing journey.

And if you know someone who’s been hard on themselves, send this to them.
Sometimes, all it takes is knowing we’re not alone.

Not Everything That Weighs You Down Is Yours To Carry

This week has been heavy.
Not just in the day-to-day busyness, but emotionally, mentally, spiritually.

And as I took a step back, I asked myself a question I’ve learned to come back to again and again:
Is all of this mine to carry?

The answer?
No.
But that hasn’t stopped me from dragging it around—tight-chested, overwhelmed, and bone-tired.

Like many of us, I juggle a lot every day.
And most of the time, I believe I can handle it all.
Until I can’t.
Until I hit a wall.
And when I do, I don’t always meet myself with grace.
Sometimes, I meet myself with frustration and shame.

Even when I know better, I still find myself slipping into old habits—trying to carry it all.
No one is asking me to.
Help is there if I reach for it.
But there I go, dragging the weight of the world across some invisible finish line I made up in my head.

It’s time to pause.
To take a breath—or a few—and ask myself what I’ve picked up along the way that never belonged to me in the first place.

We Learn to Carry What We Don’t Need

Before recovery, I carried everything.
It never occurred to me that I could set anything down.

The emotional weight.
The resentment.
The guilt.
The responsibility for people and problems that were never mine to begin with.

I just kept going—until I couldn’t.

Eventually, I hit a wall.
Hard.
And that wall was the wake-up call I needed.
I couldn’t live that way anymore.
It was slowly destroying me.

So I asked for help.
Not just with what I was carrying—but with how I lived.

Learning to Let Go of What’s Not Yours

Through recovery, I discovered something profound:
A lot of what I was carrying wasn’t mine.

Some of it was inherited—passed down through family, expectations, trauma.
Some of it I volunteered to carry—because I wanted to feel helpful, needed, or in control.

And some of it… I carried on purpose to sabotage myself.
To stay small.
To stay exhausted.
To prove that I couldn’t do more, be more, live more.

That’s the hard truth.
Sometimes, we don’t just carry what’s not ours—we choose it.

But once I got honest with myself, I realized I had a choice.
To let go.
To say no.
To only carry what actually belonged to me.

And that changed everything.

What’s Yours—and What’s Not

There will always be people who would gladly let you carry their weight.
There will be moments when you try to carry someone else’s pain, fear, or responsibility—uninvited.

But that doesn’t mean you have to.

Being helpful doesn’t mean taking on someone else’s journey.
Being strong doesn’t mean carrying more than you should.
Being loving doesn’t mean sacrificing yourself.

We are responsible for ourselves.
For our peace.
For honoring what we need.

That starts with putting down what was never yours to carry in the first place.

SLAY Reflection: What Are You Carrying?

  1. Do you tend to carry more weight than you need to—physically, emotionally, or mentally?
    What does that weight feel like?

  2. What are you carrying that doesn’t actually belong to you?
    Who gave it to you—and why did you accept it?

  3. Are there responsibilities, emotions, or expectations you’ve taken on to feel valuable or in control?
    How are they serving you? How are they hurting you?

  4. What would it feel like to put that weight down—even just a little?
    What would change?

  5. What can you do today to lighten your load and honor your limits?
    Where can you say no, ask for help, or simply rest?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one burden you’ve been carrying that isn’t actually yours—and how are you learning to let it go?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s overwhelmed by weight they were never meant to carry, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

You Don’t Need A New Day To Start

We love to wait for Mondays, fresh starts, or even January 1st. But here’s the thing:

You don’t need a new day to start. You just need a new moment.

Back when I was sick, I would talk myself out of the very things that would help me feel better. I set rules and parameters for when change could begin: it had to be Monday, or the first of the month, or it had to happen first thing in the morning. If I didn’t start exactly the way I imagined, I would convince myself the whole day or week was ruined.

So I waited.

I waited for the right conditions, the right mindset, the right time. I raised the bar high enough to make sure I couldn’t reach it—so I didn’t have to try.

But what I didn’t realize then was this:

Waiting to be perfect was just another form of self-sabotage.

And I was the one building the prison around me—and holding the key.

The Shift: Start Where You Are

When I hit bottom—emotionally, spiritually, and physically—I couldn’t wait for another Monday. I didn’t have that kind of time.

So I started right then. That moment.

I got honest with myself. I told the truth out loud. I reached out for help and made myself accountable. That decision became a line in the sand.

It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t pretty. But it was real. And that was enough.

I had to shift my mindset from “all or nothing” to “learn and move forward.” If I slipped, I didn’t have to wait for a clean slate tomorrow—I was the clean slate. I could start again in that same breath, with that same heart, right where I was.

The Gift of Failing Forward

Failure wasn’t the enemy. It was part of the process.

Your setbacks don’t have to send you all the way back.

They can become the stepping stones forward.

We are meant to fall. We are meant to get back up. It’s in those stumbles that we build strength, perspective, and resilience. If we can acknowledge what happened, learn from it, and keep going—that’s growth.

And that’s what recovery taught me:

Every moment is a moment you can begin again.

Don’t Wait. Begin.

There is no magical date on the calendar that will make everything easier. There’s just right now. And then the next now.

If you want the change, the dream, the life that feels just out of reach—go after it now. Not tomorrow. Not when things settle down. Now.

Because even if you fall, you’ll fall forward. You’ll fall into wisdom. You’ll fall into growth. And you’ll rise stronger each time.

You don’t need a new day to start, Slayer. You just need to decide.

SLAY Reflection

Ask yourself:

  • Do I wait for the “perfect time” to make a change?
  • How do I react when I slip or fall short?
  • What would it feel like to simply continue on instead of starting over?
  • Do I use setbacks as punishment?
  • What would it look like to honor my growth instead?

S – L – A – Y

S: Stop waiting for a better time.
L: Learn from every step, even the stumbles.
A: Allow yourself to keep going without starting over.
Y: Yield to the truth that your next moment can be your best one yet.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Do you wait for the “right time” to begin? What would it look like to just begin now—no matter what today looks like?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s putting their life on pause waiting for the right time, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Silence Isn’t Empty—It’s Full of Answers

There was a time when silence terrified me.

Back when I was living in the dark, silence didn’t feel still or serene—it felt suffocating. The moment things got quiet, my head got loud. I filled every corner of my life with noise: music in my ears, background TV, endless scrolling, constant distractions. Yoga? I had long quit that. Sitting alone for an hour with my thoughts? No thank you. I was afraid of what I’d hear.

But here’s what I’ve learned on the other side of that fear:
Silence isn’t empty. It’s full of answers.

What We Avoid Is Often What We Need

When I made the choice to get better, I had to learn how to sit with myself.
With my thoughts.
With the truth.
With the shame.
And ultimately—with the peace that waited beneath it all.

It didn’t happen overnight. At first, I had to work hard to ignore the lies my mind still wanted to tell me. But little by little, the static in my head started to quiet. And what I found in that silence wasn’t danger—it was guidance. Clarity.
Peace.

I realized that the silence I’d run from wasn’t trying to hurt me—it was trying to help me. I just had to be well enough to hear what it was saying.

Cleaning House to Find the Calm

In order to make peace with silence, I had to do some serious housecleaning. I worked to replace negative self-talk with words that were loving, kind, and true. I took ownership of my actions, stopped blaming everyone else, and started healing the parts of me that kept replaying old stories.

It wasn’t easy. My old patterns wanted me to believe I was always the victim, that life just happened to me. But I learned that I had choices. And even when I couldn’t control what was happening, I could still choose how I responded.

Taking responsibility gave me back my power—and that is when silence started to feel safe.

Today, silence is where I reset. It’s where I check in with myself. It’s where I listen to what I really need.
It’s no longer something I fear—it’s something I crave.

Let Silence Speak

Silence isn’t the enemy.
It’s the sacred space where our soul gets a chance to speak.

So the next time you find yourself wanting to reach for the noise—pause. Ask yourself what you’re afraid to hear. Because what scares us in the quiet is often the very thing trying to guide us forward.

Let silence be a space of peace, of presence, and of power.
SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

Are you afraid of silence? Or have you found comfort in it?

  • What comes up for you when things get quiet?

  • Are you filling your time with noise or distractions to avoid something?

  • What’s one thing you’ve learned when you’ve allowed yourself to sit in stillness?

  • How can you use silence today to guide a decision, check in with yourself, or realign with what matters?

  • What would it take for you to see silence as a friend, not a threat?

The answers are already inside you. You just have to get quiet enough to hear them.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s something silence has revealed to you that you wouldn’t have discovered otherwise?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who avoids stillness because they’re afraid of what they’ll hear, send this to them.
Sometimes, what we fear is where the healing begins.

Name Them, Claim Them, Dump Them

For a long time, I treated my feelings like enemies. I did everything I could to ignore, numb, or bury them—hoping they’d disappear on their own. Spoiler alert: they didn’t.

Sure, I could silence them for a while. Sometimes for years. But those unspoken feelings came at a high cost. Eventually, they nearly cost me my life.

When We Bury Our Feelings, We Bury Ourselves

The longer I ignored my emotions, the louder they got. The more I tried to push them down, the more they pushed back. And when I finally stripped away the things I used to keep them at bay—addiction, distraction, denial—they all came rushing in.

It felt like I was drowning.

But that tidal wave of emotion was the beginning of something new. Something honest. Something healing. I had to learn to acknowledge my feelings—to name them, accept them, and then choose what to do with them.

Name It. Claim It. Dump It.

That became my process. Name it: What exactly am I feeling? Claim it: This is mine. I don’t have to like it, but I have to own it. Dump it: Let go of what no longer serves me.

Some emotions had roots in deep pain, old stories, or unhealthy patterns. Others were tied to my illness—trying to pull me back into the darkness I fought so hard to escape. But once I named them, I could choose whether they stayed.

Not every feeling deserves a seat at your table.

Feelings Don’t Want to Be Ignored

Even now, years into recovery, those old feelings still show up. Sometimes in disguise. Sometimes dressed in new circumstances. But I know better now.

If I ignore them, they grow. If I pretend they aren’t there, they get louder. But if I meet them with truth, honesty, and intention—they lose their power.

Feelings won’t kill you. But hiding from them just might.

I’ve learned that I don’t have to fear my feelings. I just have to deal with them before they deal with me. And when I stay honest, stay kind, and stay vigilant? That’s when I stay free.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you try to hide or stuff down your feelings?
  2. What feelings scare you the most—and why?
  3. What have your feelings been trying to tell you lately?
  4. Are you willing to name and claim your emotions?
  5. What outdated feelings are you ready to dump for good?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Slow down and tune in to what you’re feeling.
  • Label it honestly—no shame.
  • Acknowledge what’s useful and what’s not.
  • You get to choose what stays and what goes.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What feeling are you finally ready to let go of?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s been holding back their feelings, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

H.O.W. – Honesty, Open-Mindedness, Willingness

Before walking this path, I constantly asked myself how.

How did I let things get this bad? How had I lost control of my life? How could I stop the pain?

What I didn’t realize was that the answer was in the question itself: H.O.W.—Honesty, Open-mindedness, and Willingness.

It was right in front of me the whole time. I just wasn’t ready to see it.

The Missing Ingredient

Back then, I wasn’t practicing any of those things. I was stubborn. I wasn’t being honest about my part in my suffering. And I wasn’t willing to change.

I had to fall a lot further before I finally landed on my knees and asked for help. That pain—the kind I had a hand in creating—was the very thing that pushed me to take action. Once I committed to getting better, I was told I had to live by H.O.W.

To get rigorously honest. To stay open to new ways of doing things. To be willing to do the work.

It didn’t all come at once. Sometimes willingness was all I had—and that was enough to begin. Because willingness almost always leads to action, and action leads to change.

A Lifelong Practice

Today, I still check in with myself using H.O.W. I ask:

  • Am I being honest about where I am?
  • Am I open to the next right step?
  • Am I willing to take action even when it’s uncomfortable?

Because here’s the truth: we don’t graduate from this work. We stay in it. We grow from it. And we live better because of it.

You Already Have the Answer

No matter where you are on your journey, ask yourself: Are you living with H.O.W.?

Are you stuck somewhere because it feels comfortable—or because you think it’s where you deserve to be?

When you get honest about your answers, stay open to new perspectives, and become willing to act, you can change your entire life.

H.O.W. isn’t just a tool. It’s the roadmap.

You hold the key. SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: What’s Your H.O.W. Check-In?

  • Do you keep asking how you got to where you are—and how to break the cycle?
  • Are you being truly honest about your patterns and choices?
  • How open are you to doing things differently—even if it’s unfamiliar?
  • What small action can you take today with willingness at the center?
  • What would your life look like if you really leaned into H.O.W.?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you can practice honesty, open-mindedness, or willingness this week?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s ready for change but doesn’t know where to start, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a roadmap—and a nudge.

Your Problem Isn’t The Problem, It’s Your Reaction To The Problem

There are so many things in life we have no control over.
But one thing we always have control over is how we react.

Before I started this journey, I didn’t believe that. I saw life as something that was constantly happening to me. I felt like I was always on the wrong side of good—piled under problems that felt too big, too unfair, and way too overwhelming to change.

What I couldn’t see at the time was that many of those problems were the result of my own choices.
And even when I wasn’t in control of what happened, I had still made a choice somewhere along the line—choosing the person, the situation, or the behavior that led me there.

It was easier to blame someone else.
But the truth? The finger I was pointing should’ve been aimed right back at me.

The Power of Radical Responsibility

When I finally got honest with myself—rigorously honest—I had to take a hard look at my role in the chaos.
And it was tough.
It’s not easy to admit that you’ve been the architect of your own pain.

But with that realization came something surprising: freedom.
Because if I was the one who got myself into it…
I could be the one to get myself out.

Owning my choices gave me power.
And from there, I could start making better ones.

Every Situation Is a Choice Point

We don’t get to control what life throws at us.
But we do get to choose how we respond.

Sometimes the best reaction is not reacting at all.
Sometimes it’s walking away.
Sometimes it’s taking a breath and choosing to show up in a way that honors your values—not your emotions in the moment.

That’s how we reclaim our power.
Even in the hardest moments, we are not powerless when we’re clear on what’s best for us—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

We always have a choice.
And that choice becomes the difference between staying in the problem and moving toward the solution.

The Problem vs. The Solution

When I started to shift my mindset this way, life got easier.
That’s not to say I never get frustrated or upset—of course I do. But now I ask myself:

  • Did I invite this in?
  • Can I disinvite it now?
  • What choice will move me forward instead of keeping me stuck?

That’s what it means to get into the solution.

Because staying in the problem only creates more problems.
But the solution?
That’s where problems go to die.

Clearing the Path Forward

I’ve learned that when I make decisions from a place that aligns with who I am—and who I’m becoming—I stop visiting the places that pull me back into chaos.

I stop letting problems define me.
I stop reacting from fear or ego.
And I start creating space for new energy, new opportunities, and new peace to enter my life.

So when the next problem pops up—and it will—ask yourself:

What’s the right reaction… for me?

That answer will always lead you toward your highest good.

SLAY Reflection: What’s Your Reaction Telling You?

  1. Do you let problems define your mood or your day?
    How often are you reacting instead of responding?
  2. How many of your current problems are tied to past choices?
    What patterns can you begin to shift?
  3. What small choices can you make today to create fewer problems tomorrow?
    Where can you be more intentional?
  4. How can you take your power back in difficult situations?
    What boundaries or truths are you avoiding?
  5. What does the “right reaction” look like for you?
    Is it silence, compassion, honesty, or stepping away?

    Call to Action: Join the Conversation

    I’d love to hear from you.
    What’s one situation or relationship where choosing not to engage helped you protect your energy?
    Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

    And if you know someone who’s caught in a cycle of reacting or proving their point, send this to them.
    Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Be A Conduit Of Good For Others

Before I began this journey, I often did good deeds—but if I’m honest, many were tied to expectations. I sought recognition, appreciation, or something in return. My actions, though seemingly kind, were often self-serving.

When I stepped into recovery, I was met with unconditional support. People offered help without expecting anything back. It baffled me. I waited for the catch, but it never came. Instead, they simply said, “Pay it forward.”

At first, I didn’t grasp the depth of that phrase. But as I started to help others without expecting anything, I felt a shift. Supporting someone else lifted me, too. It reminded me that even in my lowest moments, I had something to offer.

The Power of Selfless Acts

Helping others became a cornerstone of my recovery. Not grand gestures, but simple acts: a smile, a kind word, a listening ear. These moments connected me to others and grounded me in my own healing.

I learned that when I offer support without strings attached, it not only aids someone else but also reinforces my own growth. It’s a two-way street of healing and connection.

Letting Go of Expectations

True kindness doesn’t come with a scoreboard. When I stopped expecting reactions or rewards, my actions became more genuine. If someone didn’t respond as I’d hoped, I learned to let it go, sending them silent well-wishes instead.

This shift freed me from disappointment and allowed me to act from a place of authenticity and compassion.

Small Gestures, Big Impact

Being a conduit of good doesn’t require monumental efforts. It’s in the everyday moments: holding the door, offering a compliment, or simply being present. These small acts can have profound effects on someone’s day—and on our own hearts.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Do you look for ways to be a conduit of good in your daily life?

  • Have you experienced someone paying it forward for you? How did that make you feel?

  • What can you offer to someone today?

  • How does giving without expectation shift your perspective?

  • How can you cultivate compassion for others—and yourself?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’ll be a conduit of good today?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who might need a little hope, send this to them.
Sometimes, we just need a reminder that we matter.

Would you like me to create a WordPress excerpt and tags to go with this?

What Are You Craving? What Are You Trying To Hide?

We’ve all reached for something—food, alcohol, social media, shopping, chaos—just to feel something else. Or to feel nothing at all. But what if that craving isn’t about the thing you’re reaching for… but the feeling you’re avoiding?

Back then, I didn’t know that’s what I was doing. I told myself I was “treating” myself after a hard day. I said I deserved it. But the truth is, I was hiding. I didn’t want to feel what I was actually feeling. I just wanted to be numb.

And sometimes? I even punished myself—intentionally making myself sick or miserable—because I believed I deserved to feel bad. I couldn’t have told you that then, of course. I was too busy drowning it all out. But beneath the noise was pain. Shame. Grief. Fear. All buried under years of distractions I labeled as self-care.

The Cost of Avoiding Our Feelings

It makes me sad when I look back on those years. Because today, I feel everything—and I’m no longer afraid of it. Feelings aren’t enemies; they’re messengers. When I numb out, it’s a sign I need to slow down and listen. Because if I’m hiding from my feelings, I’ve lost touch with my authenticity.

We all use outside things to shift our mood. That’s human. But when it becomes a lifestyle—when we rely on numbing to avoid discomfort—it becomes a problem. And eventually, it all catches up to us.

I know. I hit the wall. Hard. And I’m lucky to have survived the crash.

Facing the Tsunami

The scariest part of healing was removing all those distractions. I took away every single thing I used to hide behind—and the feelings came rushing in. It felt like standing on a beach watching a tsunami race toward me, with no life jacket, no boat, no plan.

But I survived.

I didn’t survive it alone. I had support—others who were just learning how to feel again too. We held each other up. We practiced sitting with emotions that terrified us. We learned that feelings won’t kill you—but avoiding them might.

Learning to Listen

Now, even the hard emotions teach me something. They tell me when I need rest. When I need to set a boundary. When I owe someone an apology. When I have more work to do.

But they also show me joy. Love. Gratitude. They remind me I deserve to feel good—and that I must be open to feelings in order to receive them.

Feelings don’t control me today. I listen. I feel. I ask myself what they’re trying to tell me. And then I take action that honors who I am now—not who I used to be.

That’s what healing looks like. That’s what owning your power looks like. And that is a feeling worth sitting with.

SLAY Reflection

  1. What feelings do you avoid or try to numb?
  2. What do you reach for when you’re uncomfortable—and what are you really seeking?
  3. How has avoiding your emotions impacted your life in the past?
  4. What might happen if you allowed yourself to fully feel today?
  5. Are you ready to listen to what your feelings are trying to tell you?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Slow down and check in with your emotions.
  • Listen to what they’re telling you.
  • Acknowledge the urge to numb—and choose a different path.
  • You are allowed to feel everything.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one feeling you’ve been avoiding lately—and what do you think it’s trying to tell you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to feel their feelings, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.