trauma recovery

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 What outdated feelings are you ready to dump for good?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.

Feelings Can’t Kill You, But Avoiding Them Can

We can’t outrun our feelings forever. We try. We bury them, numb them, distract ourselves from them. But in the end, what we avoid will eventually rise. And for some of us, like it was for me, it can become a matter of life and death. This is a story about learning to feel again—and finding freedom on the other side.

The Fear of Feeling

Before I started walking the path of recovery, I did everything I could to not feel. I didn’t care if the feeling was good or bad—I just didn’t want it. I got so good at pretending everything was fine that I started to believe it myself, until all that was left was the heaviness I’d shoved deep down. The more I numbed, the more detached I became—from others, from joy, from myself.

I turned to anything I could: food, shopping, relationships, alcohol, travel. And it worked, temporarily. But the feelings always bubbled back up. The older I got, the harder it became to keep them down. I was a pressure cooker on the brink of exploding. And when I couldn’t keep the lid on anymore, it nearly destroyed me.

What I Didn’t Know Then

I thought the only way to escape the pain was to end the struggle altogether. I believed no one would understand, that I was alone in what I was feeling. But that wasn’t true. I was just hiding so well that no one had the chance to see me. Luckily, someone did. Someone who had been where I was bravely shared their story with me—and gave me just enough hope to reach out.

It didn’t happen overnight. It took time, more suffering, and finally a breaking point. But I reached out. And that changed everything.

The Tsunami of Emotion

When I began my recovery, I was told I’d have to learn to feel again—and that it would be OK. That idea terrified me. I hadn’t felt my feelings since I was a kid, and those childhood wounds were exactly what I’d been running from. But I couldn’t keep running anymore.

And when I stopped, it hit like a tsunami. Decades of anger, shame, fear, resentment, grief, and heartbreak came crashing in. There were days I could barely get out of bed. Days I clung to my mattress or curled in the bathtub, afraid I’d drown in it all. But you know what? I didn’t drown. I survived. And each time I allowed myself to feel, the intensity lessened. With the support of others, therapy, and time—I began to heal.

Feeling Doesn’t Mean Failing

What I’ve learned is that feelings are just information. They’re not good or bad—they just are. They tell us what we care about, what hurts, what needs our attention. Feeling them doesn’t make us weak. Avoiding them is what breaks us down.

It took time, but I began to see that not only was it safe to feel my feelings—it was necessary. And it was also OK to feel good. That was a big one. After so much pain, it took work to believe I deserved to feel joy. But I did. And so do you.

Choose to Feel

Today, I still check in with myself often. Some feelings are harder than others. Some still scare me. But I know I can face them now. And I know I don’t have to face them alone.

Your feelings can’t kill you—but avoiding them can. They are part of your story, and they deserve to be heard. You deserve to feel, to process, to heal. Take your time. Ask for help. Let the emotions teach you something. Let them show you who you are.

Because when you stop running, that’s when the real journey begins.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you avoid certain feelings? What are they?
  2. How do you typically numb or distract yourself when emotions get hard?
  3. What’s one feeling you’re afraid to face—and why?
  4. Who in your life could support you in feeling safely?
  5. What might change if you let yourself fully feel, without judgment?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Stop numbing and start noticing.
  • Let your emotions rise without shame.
  • Ask for support when you need it.
  • You are allowed to feel—and to heal.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one feeling you’ve been avoiding—and what’s one small way you could start feeling it today?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

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

You Can’t Mend If You Bend The Truth

There was a moment in my life when the truth became a matter of survival. I had finally found the courage to ask for help, and the first thing I was told was this: “You’re going to have to get rigorously honest with yourself if you want to get well.”

That word—rigorous—felt terrifying. But I was so low, so broken, that I was willing to try anything. So I said yes.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that living in truth wasn’t just about not lying—it was about letting go of every version of myself I had created to survive. I was terrified of being judged. What if they knew the real me? Would they leave? Would they hate me? Even among people whose stories mirrored mine, I still feared I was the worst of us all.

But the truth was the key to my healing.

You’re Only as Sick as Your Secrets

I’d spent so many years twisting the truth that I didn’t even know what was real anymore. I had lied to others, yes—but more dangerously, I had lied to myself. Especially about the parts of me that hurt the most.

I started small. I shared only what I could in the moment. It wasn’t perfect. But it was honest. And with every truth I spoke, I felt lighter. Less alone. More connected.

I learned that almost anything can be forgiven—as long as we’re willing to be honest about it. People aren’t looking for perfection. They’re looking for sincerity. Most of the time, just saying, “I messed up, and I’m sorry,” is enough. But when we bend or dance around the truth, that connection is lost. The wound remains open.

Half-truths don’t set you free. They keep you locked in a pattern of shame.

The truth might be uncomfortable—but it’s nothing compared to the weight of carrying secrets. When we hide behind lies, we stay sick. We stay small. We stay stuck.

Truth Is the Path to Healing

Before I asked for help, my entire life was a tangled web of excuses and justifications. I bent the truth to protect myself, but it only made things worse. The more I lied, the sicker I became.

The day I began telling the truth—to myself, to others, and to the people I had hurt—was the day I started to get well. It was messy. It was raw. But it was real.

And real is where the healing lives.

It’s easy to tell ourselves that we lie to keep others safe. That we hide things to avoid hurting people. But those are just more lies dressed as protection. The truth is, we lie because we’re afraid.

But if we want to grow, we have to get honest—not just in part, but fully. Healing requires the whole truth. That’s how we clean the wound. That’s how we rebuild trust. That’s how we find peace.

You can’t mend what you won’t face.

Let your purpose lead. It knows the way.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Are there places in your life where you bend the truth? Why?
  2. What would change if you told the full truth—first to yourself, then to others?
  3. Have you experienced healing from being honest, even when it was hard?
  4. Are there secrets you’ve been carrying that are weighing you down?
  5. What’s one small truth you can speak today that might set you free?

S – Speak honestly, even when it’s hard
L – Let go of the stories that keep you stuck
A – Acknowledge the pain, then face it with courage
Y – Yield to truth—it’s the only path to healing

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s a truth you were once afraid to share, but feel proud for having told?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s been carrying a heavy secret, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Forgive Your Monsters, Don’t Let Them Take Anymore, They’ve Taken Enough

There are monsters that live in our past. Some still haunt our present. They take from us. Our joy. Our confidence. Our peace. But here’s the truth:

They only keep taking if we keep letting them.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean making excuses. It doesn’t mean forgetting. It means cutting the cord. Reclaiming your power. Choosing not to carry someone else’s damage on your back any longer.

You Can Forgive Without Forgetting

When I started to heal, I was told I needed to get honest—rigorously honest. That included facing the monsters I had let into my life. And yes, some were people who had deeply wronged me. Others were habits, patterns, or situations I kept returning to even when they hurt.

What I realized? I had played a part in letting some of those monsters in.

Whether it was staying in toxic relationships, seeking validation in the wrong places, or betraying myself to avoid being alone—I had to own my side of the story.

That doesn’t excuse the harm. But it gave me the clarity I needed to say: enough. And the strength to walk away.

You Are Not Powerless Unless You Say You Are

Monsters thrive in silence. In secrecy. In shame.

They feed off the energy we give them—even if it’s hate, resentment, or pain.

But we have a choice.

You can take that pain and turn it into wisdom. You can use your past to protect your future. You can decide that today, right now, you will no longer allow what broke you to define you.

Forgiveness is not a gift to them. It’s a gift to you. It’s how you say:

“You no longer get to live rent-free in my mind.”

The Monsters Don’t Disappear, But Their Power Can

For many of us, the past still whispers. The memories still echo. That’s okay.

The goal isn’t to erase it. The goal is to disarm it.

To say:

  • I see what happened.
  • I know how it shaped me.
  • And I am choosing to rise anyway.

That is real power.

You can carry the lesson without reliving the nightmare. You can remember without re-opening the wound. You can forgive the monster and protect the warrior you’re becoming.

Take Your Power Back

If your monsters still show up in your thoughts, your choices, your relationships—ask yourself why. What are they still taking? And more importantly, what are you ready to take back?

You don’t need to justify their behavior to forgive them.

You just need to stop letting them lead your life.

Forgive what you can. Accept what you must. And then: leave the rest.

There is no space in this new chapter for what tried to destroy you.

You are the author now. And your story gets to look different.

Let your purpose lead. It knows the way.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Who or what still holds power over your peace?
  2. In what ways have you given your energy to the past?
  3. How might forgiveness free you, not them?
  4. What lessons can you carry without carrying the pain?
  5. What boundary or action will help you reclaim your power today?

S – Stop giving power to the past
L – Look at your part with honesty, not blame
A – Accept what you can’t change, change what you can
Y – Yield to growth and move forward free

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What have you learned by forgiving someone who hurt you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

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

What Is Your Anger Telling You?

We’ve all felt it—that boiling surge of frustration, the kind that hits you like a tidal wave and demands to be noticed. But here’s a question we don’t ask often enough: What is your anger really trying to tell you?

It’s easy to blame the person or situation in front of us, but most of the time, the fury isn’t actually about the moment at hand. It’s about something deeper. A past hurt. A lingering wound. A time you weren’t heard, respected, protected. So before you explode, pause. Ask yourself: Where is this really coming from?

The Root Beneath the Rage

For many of us, anger is an old friend. It comes from childhood trauma, from being dismissed, silenced, bullied, or made to feel small. When those memories go unprocessed, they fester. And when something in the present taps on that old bruise?

We react.

And we react big.

I used to live in that space. I didn’t always know why I was so angry, but it was always simmering, ready to spill. I lashed out. I snapped. And more often than not, I had to circle back with an apology to someone who got hit with the shrapnel of my unresolved pain.

But here’s the thing: that anger was valuable. It wasn’t just chaos—it was a clue. A road map pointing me to the places inside that still needed healing.

So What Do You Do With It?

If you’re like me, you may need some help unpacking your anger. And that’s okay. Anger is loud. It covers things up. But underneath it?

There’s usually sadness. Hurt. Shame. Fear.

When you get curious instead of combative, you give yourself the power to shift from reactive to responsive.

Here are five practices that help me navigate my anger today:

  1. Pause. Don’t fire back. Stop and ask, What’s really going on here? Is this familiar? Is this even about now? You don’t get bonus points for quick comebacks. Take the time you need.
  2. Breathe. Deep breaths help regulate your nervous system and quiet the noise in your brain. One breath. Then another. You are safe.
  3. Seek solutions. If you can calm down enough, shift your focus to finding a way forward. It’s okay to say, “I’m upset, but I want to figure this out.” That’s powerful.
  4. Use “I” statements. Avoid blame. Lead with your experience. “I feel overwhelmed when…” lands better than “You never…”
  5. Release the grudge. Let go of the need to be right. If you’ve expressed yourself and nothing changes, honor your truth and move on. Not everything deserves a permanent place in your energy.

You Deserve Peace

Here’s what I know now: we are not built to live in a state of constant rage. That’s not power, that’s pain. And it will eat you from the inside if you don’t find a healthier way to understand it.

Be the detective. Find your triggers. Get curious about your reactions. Let your anger lead you to the parts of yourself that still need attention—then offer those parts compassion.

When you do the work, when you learn to listen, anger becomes less of a wrecking ball and more of a compass.

And that, my friend, is how you slay.

SLAY Reflection

  1. What tends to trigger your anger most often?
  2. Can you trace that trigger back to something deeper?
  3. How do you typically react when angry? Do you like how that feels afterward?
  4. What are some healthier ways you could express or explore your anger?
  5. What might your anger be trying to teach you about what still needs healing?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Stop and pause when anger hits
  • Look for the root beneath the reaction
  • Acknowledge your feelings without shame
  • You have the power to choose peace over chaos

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What is your anger really trying to tell you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling with anger, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder.