Radiant Redemption

I don’t know when exactly I started believing the lies, but at some point, they took root. They wove themselves into how I moved through the world, how I saw myself, and how I let others treat me. They showed up in every relationship, every painful moment, and especially when I tried to break free.

The lies we believe about ourselves are rarely loud or obvious. They’re quiet. Insidious. Sometimes they sound like our own voice. Sometimes they masquerade as truth because they’re so familiar.

Here are three lies I carried with me for far too long:

• If anyone truly knew me, they would leave.
  So I hid. I twisted myself into a version I thought people could accept. I became who I thought they needed me to be. I smiled. I overfunctioned. I people-pleased. But I never really let myself be seen—because I was convinced that if anyone saw the real me, they’d run.
• There is something inherently wrong with me.
  Not something I did. Not a mistake I made. Me. I was the problem. I felt fundamentally flawed, like I was just wired incorrectly. This lie made me second-guess my feelings, invalidate my needs, and internalize every criticism as confirmation of what I already feared: that I was broken beyond repair.
• I am a mistake.
  This one? It stings to even write. But it was buried deep, and it shaped so much of how I treated myself. When I was drinking, numbing, or self-destructing, part of me believed it didn’t really matter. Why care for something that shouldn’t even exist?

These lies were like chains. And even though I didn’t put them on myself, I carried them as if I deserved them. They kept me small. They kept me ashamed. They kept me stuck.

But here’s what I’ve come to believe—healing begins when we learn to question the lies and replace them with truth.

And the truth is:

• I am worthy of love and belonging.
• I am not too much.
• I am not a mistake.
• I am a human being with a story, a purpose, and a future.

But believing those truths didn’t happen overnight. It came with doing the work—therapy, recovery, story work, safe community, and a whole lot of grace. It came with holding the tender parts of myself and saying, “You don’t have to hide anymore.”

I share this because maybe you’ve believed some lies too. Maybe your lies sound different—but they’ve still kept you locked in patterns of shame and silence. If so, I want you to know:

You’re not alone.
There is nothing wrong with you.
You are not too far gone.
And the version of you that’s beginning to rise? She is already loved.

Let’s Do This Together:

Take 10 minutes this week and write down three lies you’ve believed about yourself. Then—right underneath each one—write a truth to replace it. You don’t have to feel it to write it. You just have to be willing to start looking for a new story.

Quote to Carry:

“You either walk inside your story and own it, or you stand outside your story and hustle for your worthiness.” — Brené Brown

There’s power in owning your story—especially the parts you once wanted to hide. I’m walking that path with you. You are safe here.