Self-Love: Choosing Yourself Over Belonging

As this year comes to a close, I am consciously releasing the things I tried so hard to control and placing them back into prayer—where they were never meant to rest solely on my shoulders. The unanswered questions. The open endings. The quiet worries that lingered in the background. The weight I was never meant to carry alone.

This season has taught me that not everything is solved through effort or explanation. Some things require patience. Some require faith. And some are only revealed when we loosen our grip and allow space for clarity to arrive in its own time. There is a deep peace that comes from acknowledging that I don’t need to have everything figured out to move forward.

As I step into the new year, I am choosing to listen more closely to my intuition and trust the gentle nudges that guide me. I am learning to move with intention instead of urgency, and to rest in the belief that what is meant for me will not miss me. It will arrive in its own sacred timing—whole, aligned, and right on time.

This new chapter is not about striving harder or proving anything. It is about trusting more deeply, staying open, and becoming who I am meant to be—one surrendered step at a time.

Recurring negative thoughts can really sap your energy, more than you might realize. They can weigh you down, cloud your judgment, and make it tough to move forward.

In my book, Finding Your Truest You, I dedicate a whole chapter to “Unlearning Negative Mindsets,” which I affectionately refer to as stinkin’ thinkin’.

The secret to letting go of these thoughts is pretty straightforward in theory, but it does take some practice:

 ✨Reframe your thoughts—try to see things from a different angle.

 ✨Tune out the noise that doesn’t help you.

 ✨Make it a point to focus on something positive every single day.

By sticking to this routine, you carve out space for peace and clarity. You stop battling the same thoughts in your head and start directing your energy toward what really matters.

Letting go of those pesky negative thoughts isn’t just a mental cleanup—it’s a bold act of self-care that revitalizes both your energy and your focus.

Some seasons ask us to slow down.
Not because we are failing, but because we are becoming overwhelmed by motion.

They invite us to sit with ourselves—to pause the constant performing, fixing, and striving. To stop measuring our worth by productivity or progress and simply be. These seasons are uncomfortable because they remove the noise we often hide behind. Yet they are necessary.

We are taught that growth should look loud and triumphant. That it should be visible, celebrated, and constantly moving forward. But real growth does not always announce itself. Sometimes it whispers.

Sometimes growth looks like stillness.
Like peace settling gently into spaces where chaos once lived.
Like choosing rest without guilt and realizing you do not have to earn it.

In these moments, nothing dramatic happens on the outside. There are no milestones to post, no victories to explain. And yet, something profound is taking place internally. Old patterns loosen. Nervous systems soften. The constant need to prove, improve, or become someone else begins to fade.

Stillness is not stagnation.
Rest is not regression.
Pausing is not quitting.

It is learning to trust that you are allowed to exist without constantly producing something of value. It is understanding that your worth is not tied to how much you do, but to who you are beneath all the doing.

This season may feel quiet, even uneventful. But it is meaningful. It is recalibrating you. Teaching you how to live without urgency, how to choose peace over pressure, how to let life meet you where you are instead of chasing what comes next.

If you find yourself here—tired but calmer, slower but clearer—know that this, too, is growth.

This is one of those moments.

Today, as I opened my devotional, I came across these powerful words: “I know the plans I have for you, and they are good.”

That’s a pretty bold statement, but I wholeheartedly believe it.

No matter if I’m having a rough day or one of those amazing days, whether I’m feeling down or soaring high, I hold onto this truth: God has plans for me. Plans that are good, even when life feels chaotic.

There are times when I let my guard down and share parts of my heart—not for sympathy or validation, but in hopes that someone else might relate to my journey. If my words can inspire even one person to see their life in a new light, then that’s truly incredible.

What I won’t do is hide away. I refuse to tone down my vulnerability. I won’t stay silent when I feel compelled to shed light on my experiences, no matter how messy or human they may be.

If what I share makes you uncomfortable, if my voice feels too loud, or if my experiences don’t resonate with you, there’s an easy fix: just unfollow.

So often, we hold back to avoid offending or upsetting others. But I believe God has called me to be bold. I’m far from perfect. I’ve been a sinner saved by grace for 54 years, and I’m just human. I’m a woman who believes she’s meant to make a difference.

This is me—raw, real, and authentic. And I choose to live boldly in my faith, sharing my story just as it is.

Growth often feels uncomfortable while it’s happening. Pain challenges us, breaks us down, and forces us to confront the things we usually try to avoid. Yet, some of our greatest strengths emerge from the very struggles we once wanted to escape.

The hardships of the past—failure, rejection, heartbreak—might have felt unjust, but they teach us resilience, patience, and endurance. True strength is built in those quiet moments that go unnoticed: when you push through fear, when you opt for discipline instead of distraction, and when you get back up after a fall.

The pain you experienced yesterday wasn’t meant to defeat you. It was there to prepare you, to shape you, and to make you stronger. If you’re still here, still fighting, and still moving forward, that’s your proof of strength. Today, you stand stronger because of what you faced yesterday.

Do you have faith in the incredible strength of human resilience? Is there a subtle, unwavering force that empowers ordinary individuals like you and me to overcome past regrets and mistakes? I’m not referring to those who have committed irredeemable acts. I’m talking about individuals who simply wish they could revisit and alter certain moments in their lives.

 Maybe they have reacted in anger… 

 Maybe they spoke impulsively… 

 Maybe they exited when they should have remained… Or remained when they should have exited. 

People who reflect on their previous choices and think, “If only I had known then what I know now.” 

Do you believe these individuals can undergo a significant transformation? That they are capable of changing their behavior, healing old wounds, discovering new purpose, and embracing a version of themselves they once thought was unattainable? 

I certainly do – I have faith that growth is genuine, and that self-awareness can transform an entire life. I believe that resilience can convert suffering into insight, and that transformation is not limited to the extraordinary, it is accessible to anyone courageous enough to face their truth and make different choices. 

So I ask you once more, “Do you believe in transformation?”