I was told by someone dear to me, “You’re running.”
I asked him, “Running from what?”
He said, “I don’t have that insight, but I know you’re running.”
It hit different. It hit me like a ton of bricks, dead smack in the middle of my face. The reality of his words made my chest hurt; I felt my spirit shift. I kept asking myself, Running? Running from what? I asked him again, but deep down I already knew. I knew exactly what he meant, and I knew it was true.
I was running.
I am running.
Running from myself.
His words brought everything full circle. A few therapy sessions earlier, I had asked my therapist, “How do you get away when the person you’re trying to escape is you?”
Now here I am, sitting in that truth because someone I value — someone I respect and trust — saw past the part of me I show the world. He saw the real me, beyond the appearance, beyond the pretense, beyond the version I’ve learned to perform.
So now I find myself asking: What is it I’m truly running from?
My truth.
My purpose.
My whole being.
For so long, I’ve operated in self-betrayal — shrinking myself, dimming my light just to fit into rooms and situations I never should have been in. I’ve people-pleased, searching for validation that still left me empty. I’ve given too much of myself to the wrong people, places, and things… and for all the wrong reasons. It has carved a void in me that I can feel even in my quiet moments.
Now, as the person I’m becoming looks back at who I once was, I struggle to extend to myself the same grace I offer everyone else. I keep asking:
Why did I do that?
Why did I let people misuse and mistreat me?
Why did I keep choosing relationships and friendships that didn’t suit me? Why?
You want to talk about hurt?
The answers to those questions made me sick to my stomach. And honestly, it seemed easier to stay on the path I’ve been on for years. It was familiar. It was what I knew. It worked.
But the alternative — facing the truth of my own self-betrayal — that truth was painful. That truth is lonely. That truth is hard.
But here I am, choosing it anyway.
Choosing to operate in truth.
Choosing to give myself grace.
Choosing to find my purpose — my real purpose.
I am tired of running.
I am tired of feeling lonely.
I am tired of living with this void.
My light is bright.
My purpose is bigger than I can imagine.
My faith is stronger than my fear.
I’m choosing to trust myself, stand strong in my faith, and move with intention. I’m choosing to be intentional with my time, my gifts, and my love. Choosing not to settle. Choosing not to shrink. Choosing not to be afraid.
This time… I choose me.
With God leading me, I’m realizing healing doesn’t come from escape — it comes from standing still, facing myself, and returning to who He always created me to be.
Reflection Question:
What truth have you been running from, and what would it look like to finally stop and face it with honesty and grace?