Have you ever set out to do something, start something—walked that first step towards a dream you've always had, signed up for that course you've always dreamed of taking—but only ended up stopping?
Perhaps, you stopped due to fear. Perhaps, a voice inside your mind, a voice you've been trying to silence for years, told you that you would never make it, you were never enough. Perhaps, some form of doubt reached out and grabbed your heart with its cold fingers, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.
I think you know what I mean. Those doubts that creep up in your heart when you think that all is well. Those moments that cause you to question who you are and what you know. Those times when you remembered something you experienced or something someone said to you in the past.
The Words That Limit Us
I've been realising more and more that words are such powerful things. Labels are powerful things. The names that we give our family and friends are powerful things.All-around and every day, we end up getting defined by the people around us, by friends and family who mean well, but perhaps don't quite know that the words they release change our lives. Sometimes for the better, but also sometimes for the worse.
The thing is, people aren't always careful of the things they say. We aren't always careful of the things we say. We speak flippantly, like everything around us is a joke, not knowing that what we see as trivial can mean the whole world to a person. That's why those reminders you always see aren't thoughtless repetitions of what we should know: be kind, be kind, be kind.
You know what I'm talking about. Words like "lazy", "slow", "silly", "fat", "ugly". The list is endless. They are words that are sometimes released in jest, but somehow make their way to our hearts and wound us. And often, without realising it, we find ourselves hurt plenty by the names and labels people call us. And if we're not careful, these names and label stake root in our hearts, breaking our spirits until we believe them too.
These words can come from different places. Sometimes, it comes from when you were a child and your parents said something that shattered your soul. Or it could have come from a friend who betrayed your trust by saying one thing and then doing another. Or it could have come from a colleague or supervisor at work who said cruel words that sucked the life out of you.
Wherever it came from, it made a mark on your soul until you have been left where you are with nothing but despair and sorrow in a dark place where no light touches.
The problem with believing these words is when we believe them so much more than we believe who we are in God. As a result, we end up missing out on God's wonderful plan for our lives...and what God thinks of us. Every time we are faced with a beautiful opportunity, instead of jumping into it with open arms, we hesitate, thinking of all the times we were belittled and called something else. Thinking of all the times when people called out our failures. Thinking of all the times when people called us failures.
And so we find ourselves trapped in what other people think of us, how other people see us. We box ourselves into their ideas of who we are and conform to their standards. We end up thinking, "This is who I really am," when, dear heart, it is not.
All the labels and names people call you don't dictate who you are—treasured, precious child of God. You, who are fearfully and wonderfully made. You, who are His beloved.
The Past That Still Holds Us Captive
It's not just the names people called us that keeps us from doing what we want to do. It's not just words that make us stop in our tracks. It's our past, too. A past that keeps us from healing.Think about a time when the people around you treated you in such a way that hurt you.
Think of a colleague or boss at work who crushed your spirit.
Think of a friend or family member who betrayed your trust.
Think of people who trampled all over your heart with cruel words and seemingly harmless jokes.
Think of insensitive people who stripped you of your confidence by talking down at you.
Think of people who tried to rip your soul apart with their words and actions.
Sometimes, the people around us, the ones we love the most attack our bodies, souls, and spirits. And when they do that, the hurt goes deep down inside. It shatters our souls, too, and makes our hearts bleed. And even if was a thing of the past, the memories still inflict the same pain over and over again.
You see, sometimes, you can be delivered from a situation, but never be truly free from it. Sometimes, you can be trapped in a time and place when someone hurt you so much that every sound, smell, every single detail brings back to memory the pain you faced.
For those of us with shattered souls, the first step to coming out of the dark place often comes with acknowledging it. Acknowledging our past. Acknowledging the betrayal. Acknowledging that there are days when we don't feel like ourselves...and that those days are probably more common than we would dare to admit. We need to stand up and say, "Yes, I am broken." Dear heart, only when we acknowledge that we are broken can we acknowledge that we need healing. And only when we acknowledge that we need healing can we begin to truly heal.
The Crutch That Drags Us Down
In between the names and labels people called us and the past that still holds us captive is a pain that serves as a crutch.And the thing with pain and covering it up is that we tend to hold it like a crutch. We think it will support the weight we bear down upon it, not knowing that it drags us down with it.
If you're like me, you tend to sweep your feelings under the rug. At the tiniest prick of your heart, you throw yourself into work and other activities. "If I work hard enough, what my colleagues/boss said to me will go away." "If I'm busy, I won't remember that people said something to hurt me or question my self-worth."
I like what author and therapist Aundi Koliber said:
"There is a difference between thinking our feelings and feeling them.
Learning to be with ourselves, to turn toward our experience—is part of the process of learning to feel them rather than over intellectualize them away."
If I were to be a hundred per cent honest, I think my feelings. I say, "Okay, this is supposed to hurt, and because it hurts, this is how it will make you feel." But I don't allow myself to feel it. I patch up things with work, with hobbies, with reading books and going on social media, with cooking and exercising and doing a thousand other things that will help me keep my mind on other things because I cannot, cannot, cannot think about what will hurt.
Better to be busy than to feel, I say. Better to pretend it doesn't matter than to admit that those words and situations in the past hurt me still. So I suppress it and refuse to feel it. I can talk about it, but I won't sit still and let myself realise the pain. I cast things over it and hope that the wounds will heal while being covered.
But we all know that it doesn't work that way. That for something to truly heal, you must expose it. That in order to grieve properly and heal properly, you have to go through the pain and process of feeling and acknowledging it. And I don't like that. I hate vulnerability and weakness and saying "Yes, you hurt me when you did that." And I know it's pride and my way of saying I can just get by without your opinion of me and no matter how you treat me, it won't affect me.
But no matter how hard I try to patch things up, truth will always see the light of day. Truth will always shine forth. Truth will always strip away the coverings I've dumped on top of grief and the things I refuse to handle. Truth will bare it, make it sting, and set me free.
Sometimes, I dare to think that we are afraid of healing. Sometimes, I dare to think that we avoid it because when we are without pain, we don't have anything to use as a crutch, as an excuse.
People like me, who try to patch things up without addressing the heart of the matter make it worse because we let it fester. You know how it is when a wound becomes rotten. It destroys everything else. Similarly, letting ourselves hold onto our pain, binding ourselves too tightly to it constricts us, constrains us, keeps us from growing, keeps us from fully healing.
So stare at pain in the face, dear heart. Take off the coverings that you use to tie it down, to hide it, and let it come to light. Face it head on. Let it cease to trap you. Feel it even if you think the pain could kill you. And when you are done, cast it away. Walk towards the light and start your journey towards healing.
Cover Photo by Ye Jinghan on Unsplash