Unlearning the Lies You Once Needed to Survive

Most of us don’t set out to deceive ourselves — but we do.
Not out of malice… out of survival.

We learn early in life how to protect ourselves emotionally:
We convince ourselves we’re fine when we’re hurting.
We pretend we don’t care when we’re desperate to belong.
We downplay our dreams because wanting something feels risky.

These little lies become armor.
They help us navigate pain… until they start causing the pain.

There is truth inside those false stories we tell — and discovering it is how we free ourselves.

Healing isn’t about tearing everything down at once.
It’s about gradually stepping away from self-delusion
until what remains is pure being — the real you.


Self-Delusion Begins as Self-Protection

When the world teaches you it’s not safe to feel…
you learn how to numb.

When you’re told who you should be…
you disconnect from who you are.

When you’ve been abandoned or judged for your honesty…
you learn to hide your truth — even from yourself.

And so the false stories begin:

“If I don’t need anyone, no one can hurt me.”
“If I fail, it proves I wasn’t meant for more.”
“If they don’t love me, I must not deserve love.”

These narratives seem protective on the surface — but underneath?
They keep you stuck in cycles that confirm the lies.

Your brain continues repeating what feels familiar, not what is true.


The First Step Toward Truth Is Curiosity

Instead of asking:
“Why am I like this?”
Try:
“What is this response trying to protect me from?”

Every false belief holds a hidden truth:

  • The lie: “I don’t care.”
    The truth: you care deeply.
  • The lie: “I don’t need help.”
    The truth: you’re afraid to rely on others.
  • The lie: “I’m not good enough.”
    The truth: you haven’t yet realized your worth.

There’s wisdom beneath every coping mechanism — even the harmful ones.
Your job isn’t to destroy them…
It’s to outgrow them.


Awakening Happens in Small Shifts

You don’t have to rip off your emotional armor in one day.
That would feel terrifying. Unsafe. Overwhelming.

Transformation is much more compassionate than that.
It asks only for small, consistent steps:

  • Notice when you’re pretending
  • Question when something feels “off”
  • Admit the things you’ve avoided
  • Allow yourself to feel — without judgment
  • Choose honesty, even if it’s incremental

This is the quiet work of coming home to yourself.

Each time you move one step closer to truth, a layer of falsehood falls away.

Gradually, you stop performing.
You stop perfecting.
You stop hiding.

And you begin being.


The Painful Beauty of Seeing Yourself Clearly

Let’s be honest — seeing the truth can sting.

It means acknowledging patterns that kept you small.
Admitting fear where you once claimed power.
Owning the roles you played in your own suffering.

But here’s the magic:
You can’t change what you refuse to see.

Clarity isn’t self-punishment — it’s liberation.

When you let go of the illusions,
you create space for identity, purpose, and joy that are real.

The more truth you honor,
the less tolerance you have for anything that asks you to betray yourself again.


Pure Being — Your Most Powerful State

Who are you when you remove the fear?
Who are you beneath the expectations?
Who are you without the roles you’ve been performing?

That person — the one underneath — is not weak.
They are not unworthy.
They are not broken.

They are whole, powerful, and free.

Pure being means:

  • You know who you are
  • You honor your needs
  • You speak your truth
  • You choose alignment over approval
  • You live from love, not fear

It is the state you were born into…
and the state you are returning to.


Trust the Unbecoming

You are not falling apart.
You are falling into yourself.

Every false story shed is a step toward truth.
Every limiting belief dismantled is a doorway to freedom.

This is sacred work.

And the closer you get to who you truly are…
the clearer everything becomes:

Your desires.
Your boundaries.
Your identity.
Your path.

You are allowed to outgrow the version of you that once protected you.
They got you here.
Thank them.
Then take the next step.


SLAY Reflection

  1. What story do you tell yourself to avoid feeling discomfort?
  2. Where in your life do you feel disconnected from who you really are?
  3. What small truth can you acknowledge today — without shame?
  4. How would life feel if you didn’t have to perform or pretend anymore?
  5. What’s one step you can take this week toward living more honestly?

S – See the stories you tell yourself
L – Let go of lies that no longer serve you
A – Accept the truth with compassion
Y – Yield to your real self — your pure being


Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What truth are you ready to honor — even if it scares you?
Share in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if someone you love is stuck in self-delusion, living in old stories — send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that we are more than the lies we once believed.

Slay Say

Truth isn’t found in the height of a reaction, but in the clarity that comes after.

Feelings can be powerful storytellers—but not always reliable ones. They shout in moments of hurt, fear, or doubt, demanding you take action, say something, quit, or lash out. But when you give your emotions time to breathe, your wisdom steps forward. Your truth finds its voice. And your story becomes something you can stand by—without apology.

This is your reminder to pause before you print.

SLAY on!

Do You Like To Star In Your Own Junkologue?

We all have a past. We all have pain. But some of us don’t just carry it—we perform it. Over and over. Like a monologue we’ve rehearsed so well, it becomes our identity. If that sounds familiar, you might be starring in what I call your junkologue.

It’s that loop where you retell the same stories of pain, betrayal, and hardship—not to heal, but to get a reaction. Maybe it’s sympathy. Maybe it’s validation. Maybe it’s just to be seen. But here’s the thing: living in your junk keeps you from living in your truth.


Are You Telling It or Reliving It?

There’s a difference between sharing your story and clinging to it. We often convince ourselves we’re “working through” something when in reality, we’re rehashing it to stay stuck.

Before I found the courage to get help, I was the lead in my junkologue. I told my tales of pain like war stories—always the victim, never the villain. I’d exaggerate to gain sympathy or manipulate situations to my advantage. It wasn’t humility. It was a form of emotional exhibitionism—a way to keep myself small while trying to feel important.

I told myself I was being vulnerable. But I wasn’t. I was addicted to the attention my wounds gave me. And the people who stuck around? They were often stuck in their own junk too. Misery doesn’t just love company—it curates it.


The Shift From Performance to Purpose

Everything changed when I started asking the hard questions: Why am I telling this story? What am I hoping to gain? Am I using it to inspire—or to indulge?

That’s when I discovered what true humility really meant. It wasn’t putting myself down publicly for applause. It was being honest about my part in the story. It was making amends, not just confessions.

Now, if I share a piece of my past, it’s with purpose—to support, connect, or guide. Not to center myself in pain, but to show what healing looks like.

Your junkologue doesn’t have to be your identity. It can be your origin story—but only if you let yourself grow beyond it.


What’s Your Motivation?

Your story is powerful. But ask yourself: Are you using it to heal—or to hide?

  • Are you sharing to connect, or to compete?
  • Are you expressing yourself, or performing a role?
  • Are you owning your part—or just retelling how others hurt you?

If you’re constantly the victim in every version of your story, it might be time to zoom out. See your patterns. See your choices. See your growth.

Because you are not your worst moments. You are not your junk. You are who you decide to become next.


Being a SLAYER Means Owning the Mic With Intention

We’ve all survived things. But survival isn’t the goal—thriving is.

So the next time you feel the urge to share your junkologue, pause. Ask yourself: Is this for healing, or habit? Is this story helping me evolve—or keeping me stuck?

When we tell our stories with ownership, honesty, and heart, they lift us—and those listening. When we tell them for attention or control, they keep us in the shadows.

You get to choose which version you tell. And more importantly—you get to choose what comes next.

Step out of your junkologue, and into your power. That’s how we Slay.


SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you tend to repeat certain stories from your past? Why?
  2. How do you feel during and after sharing those stories?
  3. What are you hoping others will give you when you share them?
  4. Are you honest about your part in those stories?
  5. What could shift if you reframed your story as a source of strength, not pain?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Share with purpose, not pity
  • Let go of old narratives that no longer serve
  • Acknowledge your part and your progress
  • You control the next chapter of your story

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Do you ever catch yourself performing your junkologue? What helps you shift into healing mode instead?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in the loop of their old story, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.