There is a difference between being a victim of something and allowing what happened to become the only story you know how to tell about yourself.

That distinction matters.

Because if you have experienced abuse, betrayal, manipulation, neglect, violence, or another form of trauma, calling yourself a victim is not a lie.

Something happened to you.

You were affected by someone else’s choices.

You may have experienced fear, loss, confusion, grief, anger, shame, or a profound disruption in the way you understood yourself and the world around you.

None of that needs to be minimized.

But healing can eventually invite another question:

What happens next?

Not What should have happened?

Not Why didn’t they change?

Not How can I make them understand what they did?

But:

What is mine to choose now?

That question does not erase responsibility for the person who caused the harm.

It begins to restore something different:

your agency.

I Can Acknowledge What Happened Without Living There

One of the hardest parts of healing after abuse can be holding two truths at the same time:

What happened was not my fault.

And:

My healing is something I can participate in.

Those statements are not contradictory.

In fact, research on trauma recovery has increasingly examined factors that influence how people respond following traumatic experiences, including coping self-efficacy—the belief that we can cope with difficult circumstances and take effective action.

A meta-analysis of 154 studies found that positive expectancies such as hope and self-efficacy were associated with lower posttraumatic stress symptoms. The relationship was particularly strong for coping-specific self-efficacy (Gallagher et al., 2020).

This does not mean that someone can simply think their way out of trauma.

It does not mean that trauma survivors are responsible for developing PTSD.

And it certainly does not mean that people who struggle are not trying hard enough.

It means something more hopeful:

Our sense of what we are capable of doing can matter in recovery.

And sometimes the first step toward agency is very small.

It might be:

“I can choose who I talk to today.”

“I can say no.”

“I can ask for help.”

“I can leave this conversation.”

“I can learn something new about myself.”

“I can decide what I will tolerate going forward.”

“I can take the next step even though I am still afraid.”

Those choices may look small from the outside.

But when someone has spent years feeling powerless, choice can be profoundly meaningful.

Blame and Responsibility Are Not the Same Thing

This is where I think we need to be especially careful.

There is a difference between assigning responsibility for harm and living in a constant state of blame.

If someone abused you, the responsibility for that abuse belongs to the person who chose to abuse you.

Your healing does not require you to take responsibility for what someone else did.

But healing can involve deciding what responsibility you want to take for your life now.

That might sound like:

“I didn’t cause what happened to me. But I can choose how I respond to it today.”

That is not victim-blaming.

It is agency.

Research on interpersonal victimhood offers an interesting perspective here. Gabay and colleagues (2020) developed and studied the construct they called the Tendency for Interpersonal Victimhood (TIV)—an enduring tendency to experience oneself as a victim across different interpersonal relationships.

Their research identified four dimensions of this tendency:

a need for recognition,
moral elitism,
lack of empathy, and
rumination.

Across eight studies, higher interpersonal victimhood was associated with differences in how people interpreted interpersonal events, remembered negative information, attributed blame, and responded to perceived offenses (Gabay et al., 2020).

But this finding needs an important qualification.

Interpersonal victimhood is not the same thing as being an actual victim of abuse.

A person can genuinely be victimized and still develop patterns of thinking that keep the injury psychologically present long after the immediate danger has passed.

That is the part worth examining.

Not:

“Are you really a victim?”

But:

“Has what happened to you become the lens through which everything else is now interpreted?”

When Remembering Becomes Rumination

Remembering is not the problem.

Processing is not the problem.

Talking about what happened is not the problem.

Seeking justice is not the problem.

And telling your story can be an important part of healing.

But there is a difference between processing an experience and repeatedly becoming trapped in the same mental loop.

Research has consistently found an association between rumination and posttraumatic stress symptoms. A systematic review and meta-analysis involving 64 samples from 59 articles found a moderate positive relationship between rumination and posttraumatic stress symptoms (Szabo et al., 2017).

Another systematic review found rumination to be an important cognitive process associated with PTSD, while also emphasizing that much of the existing research is correlational and therefore cannot establish simple cause-and-effect conclusions (Moulds et al., 2020).

That distinction matters.

Because sometimes healing requires us to notice:

Am I processing this—or am I replaying it?

Am I learning from this—or continually reliving it?

Am I seeking support—or seeking repeated confirmation that I was wronged?

Am I trying to understand my experience—or trying to finally get the past to give me a different ending?

There may come a time when the most healing question isn’t:

“Why did they do this?”

but:

“What do I need now?”

Grace Changes the Way I Talk to Myself

This is where grace becomes so important to me.

Not grace as an excuse.

Not grace that says abuse wasn’t serious.

Not grace that requires reconciliation.

And not grace that asks survivors to rush past anger or grief.

I mean grace toward myself.

Trauma can affect how people see themselves, their emotions, their relationships, and their ability to cope. Research has found that self-compassion is consistently associated with fewer posttraumatic stress symptoms, although the mechanisms behind that relationship are still being investigated (Winders et al., 2020).

A systematic review and meta-analysis of self-compassion-focused interventions also found a medium-sized reduction in posttraumatic stress symptoms across the included studies, although the researchers emphasized the complexity of the evidence and the need for further research (Luo et al., 2021).

So perhaps grace sounds less like:

“I should be over this by now.”

And more like:

“I am learning.”

“I didn’t know then what I know now.”

“My reactions made sense in the context of what I experienced.”

“I can have compassion for the person I was while still choosing differently today.”

“I don’t have to hate myself for the ways I survived.”

That is not weakness.

That is a different way of relating to yourself.

Boundaries Are Not Walls

Another part of my healing has been understanding the difference between boundaries and punishment.

A boundary isn’t:

“You will do what I want.”

A boundary is closer to:

“This is what I will do to take care of myself when a certain behavior occurs.”

That distinction changes everything.

A boundary might mean:

“I won’t stay in a conversation where I am being verbally attacked.”

“I won’t continue a relationship that repeatedly violates my stated limits.”

“I won’t explain myself indefinitely to someone committed to misunderstanding me.”

“I can love someone without giving them unlimited access to me.”

Healthy boundaries also don’t have to mean cutting everyone out.

They can mean learning to communicate needs, limits, expectations, and consequences more clearly.

Research on assertive communication describes assertiveness as communicating one’s views, concerns, rights, and needs while respecting those of other people. Researchers also note that the evidence base is still developing and that definitions and measures of assertiveness vary considerably (Gutgeld-Dror et al., 2024).

So I don’t want to claim that boundaries are a magical cure for trauma.

They aren’t.

But learning to communicate limits and protect ourselves from ongoing harmful interactions can be an important part of rebuilding a sense of safety and agency.

Healing Does Not Require Me to Forgive Before I’m Ready

There is another misconception I have had to challenge:

Forgiveness is not the same thing as reconciliation.

And forgiveness is not a requirement for healing.

Research on forgiveness interventions suggests that forgiveness-focused approaches can reduce psychological distress and improve some aspects of well-being, but that does not mean every survivor needs to forgive an offender, restore a relationship, or stop holding someone accountable (Akhtar & Barlow, 2018).

Forgiveness can be deeply personal.

For some people, it may eventually mean releasing the desire for revenge.

For someone else, it may mean no longer allowing another person’s behavior to occupy their emotional energy.

For someone else, it may be part of their faith.

And for someone else, they may not be ready to use that word at all.

Healing should not become another place where we judge ourselves.

I Don’t Have to Find a Silver Lining

This is especially important.

I don’t believe healing means pretending that trauma was a gift.

It wasn’t.

Abuse wasn’t necessary for me to become stronger.

Pain doesn’t need to be romanticized.

And I don’t have to be grateful for what hurt me.

Research on posttraumatic growth gives us a more nuanced picture.

Posttraumatic growth refers to positive psychological changes that can occur following a struggle with highly challenging life circumstances. Research with survivors of interpersonal violence has identified possible growth in areas such as appreciation of life, personal strength, relationships, new possibilities, and changes in outlook (Elderton et al., 2017).

But growth is not guaranteed.

And growth does not mean the person is no longer suffering.

In fact, research shows that posttraumatic stress and posttraumatic growth can coexist (Taku et al., 2022).

That means I don’t have to choose between saying:

“This hurt me.”

and

“I am growing.”

Both can be true.

I can still grieve.

I can still have difficult days.

I can still experience triggers.

I can still need support.

And I can also discover new possibilities.

My Story Can Be True Without Becoming My Identity

Maybe this is the shift I am talking about.

Not:

Victim → Perfectly Healed Person

Healing doesn’t work that way.

Instead:

What happened → Awareness → Choice → Boundaries → Support → Growth

And sometimes we move backward and forward through those things.

There are days when I feel strong.

There are days when I feel exhausted.

There are days when I can see how far I have come.

And there are days when an old wound reminds me that I am still becoming.

That doesn’t mean I have failed.

It means healing is not a straight line.

I Am Allowed to Choose What Comes Next

I cannot change what happened.

I cannot make another person become accountable.

I cannot rewrite my childhood.

I cannot erase memories.

I cannot make every person understand my experience.

But I can begin asking different questions.

What do I believe about myself now?

What do I need to feel safe?

What boundaries do I need?

Who has earned access to my life?

What patterns do I want to stop repeating?

What kind of relationships do I want to build?

What support do I need?

What parts of myself have I neglected?

What possibilities are still available to me?

And perhaps the biggest question:

Who am I becoming?

Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life defined by the worst thing someone else did to me.

I want to honor the woman who survived.

I want to have compassion for the woman who didn’t always know what to do.

I want to protect the woman I am becoming.

And I want to remember that taking responsibility for my healing does not mean taking responsibility for someone else’s harm.

There is freedom in knowing the difference.

I can tell the truth about what happened.

I can hold the person who caused harm accountable.

I can establish boundaries.

I can give myself grace.

I can ask for help.

I can grieve what I lost.

I can acknowledge what still hurts.

And eventually, I can begin asking:

What do I want to build with the life I have now?

That, to me, is not forgetting the past.

It is not excusing the past.

It is not pretending the past didn’t matter.

It is choosing not to let the past have the final word.

I was a victim of what happened.

But I am not only what happened to me.

I am still here.

I am still learning.

I am still healing.

And I am still becoming.

There are possibilities beyond what happened to me.

Learning What Is Mine—and What Is Not

One of the things I am learning as I continue this journey is the difference between what is my responsibility and what is not. I am still practicing these tools. I don’t always get it right, and I don’t expect myself to. But I am becoming better at pausing and asking myself, “Did I actually do something wrong, or does someone simply believe I did something wrong?” Those are not always the same thing. I can listen to someone’s perspective without automatically accepting it as the truth about me. I can consider what they are saying, take responsibility when I genuinely have something to own, and also recognize when their feelings, expectations, or interpretation belong to them. I can set healthy boundaries without needing everyone to agree with them. I can apologize when I have caused harm, made a mistake, or acted in a way that does not align with who I want to be—not simply because someone has told me that I was wrong. To me, this is part of becoming: learning to take honest responsibility for my own choices while releasing responsibility for other people’s choices, opinions, reactions, and perceptions. I am learning that accountability does not require self-abandonment. Compassion does not require me to accept blame that does not belong to me. And having boundaries does not make me unkind. It means I am learning to trust myself, listen to myself, and make choices that honor both who I am and who I am becoming.

APA 7 References

Akhtar, S., & Barlow, J. (2018). Forgiveness therapy for the promotion of mental well-being: A systematic review and meta-analysis. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse, 19(1), 107–122. https://doi.org/10.1177/1524838016637079

Elderton, A., Berry, A., & Chan, C. (2017). A systematic review of posttraumatic growth in survivors of interpersonal violence in adulthood. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse, 18(2), 223–236. https://doi.org/10.1177/1524838015611672

Gabay, R., Hameiri, B., Rubel-Lifschitz, T., & Nadler, A. (2020). The tendency for interpersonal victimhood: The personality construct and its consequences. Personality and Individual Differences, 165, 110134. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.paid.2020.110134

Gallagher, M. W., Long, L. J., & Phillips, C. A. (2020). Hope, optimism, self-efficacy, and posttraumatic stress disorder: A meta-analytic review of the protective effects of positive expectancies. Journal of Clinical Psychology, 76(2), 329–355. https://doi.org/10.1002/jclp.22882

Gutgeld-Dror, M., Laor, N., & Karnieli-Miller, O. (2024). Assertiveness in physicians’ interpersonal professional encounters: A scoping review. Medical Education, 58(4), 392–404. https://doi.org/10.1111/medu.15222

Luo, X., Che, X., Lei, Y., & Li, H. (2021). Investigating the influence of self-compassion-focused interventions on posttraumatic stress: A systematic review and meta-analysis. Mindfulness, 12, 2865–2876. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12671-021-01732-3

Moulds, M. L., Bisby, M. A., Wild, J., & Bryant, R. A. (2020). Rumination in posttraumatic stress disorder: A systematic review. Clinical Psychology Review, 82, 101910. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cpr.2020.101910

Szabo, Y. Z., Warnecke, A. J., Newton, T. L., & Valentine, J. C. (2017). Rumination and posttraumatic stress symptoms in trauma-exposed adults: A systematic review and meta-analysis. Anxiety, Stress, & Coping, 30(4), 396–414. https://doi.org/10.1080/10615806.2017.1313835

Taku, K., Tedeschi, R. G., Cann, A., & Calhoun, L. G. (2022). Empirically derived patterns of posttraumatic stress and growth: A systematic review. Journal of Traumatic Stress, 35(6), 1733–1745. https://doi.org/10.1002/jts.22833

Winders, S.-J., Murphy, O., Looney, K., & O’Reilly, G. (2020). Self-compassion, trauma, and posttraumatic stress disorder: A systematic review. Clinical Psychology & Psychotherapy, 27(3), 300–329. https://doi.org/10.1002/cpp.2429

Family Life Education, Healing Journey, Health, Self-Discovery

Grace: The Space Between Imperfection and Rejection

October 6, 2026October 6, 2026 Beyond Possibilities

What if one of the things we need most in our relationships isn’t more perfection—but more grace?

We live in a world that can make perfection feel like the price of belonging.

We expect ourselves to get it right. We expect our spouses, children, friends, coworkers—and sometimes even strangers—to get it right. And when someone doesn’t, it can be easy to move quickly from:

“That behavior wasn’t okay.”

to:

“Something is wrong with you.”

But there is a difference between holding someone accountable for what they do and defining their worth by what they did.

That difference is where I believe grace matters.

From a Christian perspective, grace is deeply connected to God’s unmerited favor, mercy, forgiveness, and love. Scripture presents grace not as permission to ignore wrongdoing, but as part of God’s response to human imperfection and sin (Romans 3:23–24; Ephesians 2:8–9).

Psychology approaches the idea differently, but it gives us another way to understand some of the human processes that can accompany what we might call extending grace—including self-compassion, forgiveness, interpersonal responsiveness, attachment, and constructive conflict repair.

These psychological concepts are not identical to biblical grace, and psychological research has not scientifically “proven” grace as a theological concept.

But they can help us explore an important shared human question:

What happens when we respond to imperfection with compassion rather than relentless condemnation?

Grace doesn’t erase accountability.

Grace changes how we respond to imperfection.

What Is Grace?

The word grace can mean different things depending on the framework through which we understand it.

Grace From a Biblical Perspective

From a Christian perspective, grace is fundamentally about God’s freely given favor and love—something that cannot be earned through human performance.

Ephesians 2:8–9 describes salvation as being “by grace” through faith rather than something earned through works.

Ephesians 2:8–9 — KJV

At the heart of the Christian understanding of grace is an important truth:

Our worth is not something we have to earn through perfect performance.

Genesis 1:27 teaches that human beings are created in the image of God. Within Christian theology, Imago Dei means that human value is rooted in God’s creation rather than simply in productivity, appearance, accomplishments, or performance.

Genesis 1:27 — KJV

At the same time, Scripture does not pretend that human beings are perfect.

Romans 3:23 states:

“For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.”

And the very next verse points to justification through God’s grace (Romans 3:23–24).

Romans 3:23–24 — KJV

Human imperfection is not a surprise to God.

That is one reason grace is such a powerful concept within Christianity.

Failure is real.

Sin is real.

Consequences can be real.

But failure does not have to become the final definition of a person’s identity or worth.

What Does Grace Look Like Through a Psychological Lens?

If you are not religious, you may be wondering:

What does any of this have to do with psychology?

Psychology does not define grace as one established psychological construct. Instead, researchers study several specific processes that overlap with aspects of what people may mean when they talk about giving themselves or another person grace.

These include self-compassion, forgiveness, interpersonal responsiveness, attachment, and constructive conflict resolution (Feeney & Karantzas, 2017; Neff, 2023; Overall & McNulty, 2017; Sasaki & Overall, 2023).

These concepts are not interchangeable with grace.

But they give us a scientific framework for understanding why responding to ourselves and others with compassion, understanding, and appropriate responsiveness can matter.

Self-compassion

Self-compassion involves responding to our own suffering, mistakes, and inadequacies with kindness rather than excessive self-judgment. Neff (2023) describes self-compassion through three broad components: self-kindness, common humanity, and mindfulness, along with reduced self-judgment, isolation, and over-identification.

Research has found a substantial association between self-compassion and well-being. In a meta-analysis of 79 samples involving 16,416 participants, Zessin et al. (2015) found an overall positive association between self-compassion and well-being.

Importantly, self-compassion is not the same as telling yourself that everything you do is acceptable.

It is possible to acknowledge:

“I made a mistake.”

without concluding:

“I am a terrible person.”

Forgiveness

Psychological research also examines forgiveness and its relationship to interpersonal functioning.

In two studies involving romantic relationships, Braithwaite et al. (2011) found that forgiveness was associated with relationship satisfaction, with increased relational effort and decreased negative conflict helping explain that association.

Again, forgiveness is not identical to grace.

But it gives us another example of how changing our response to an offense can influence a relationship.

Responsiveness

Researchers also study interpersonal responsiveness—the ability to recognize another person’s needs and respond appropriately to those needs.

Sasaki and Overall (2023) explain that effective responsiveness during conflict depends on understanding the specific needs of the people involved rather than simply applying the same response to every situation.

Sometimes someone needs reassurance.

Sometimes they need to be heard.

Sometimes they need space.

Sometimes they need accountability.

Sometimes they need a clear boundary.

Healthy relational responses require us to pay attention to the actual person and situation rather than responding automatically.

Attachment and conflict

Attachment research provides another perspective.

Close relationships are important contexts in which people experience security, vulnerability, connection, and conflict. Feeney and Karantzas (2017) describe how severe or persistent couple conflict can activate the attachment system and how responses to conflict are influenced, in part, by attachment-related processes.

That helps explain why relational conflict can feel like much more than a disagreement.

Sometimes underneath:

“Why didn’t you do this?”

is:

“Can I count on you?”

Underneath:

“Why are you pulling away?”

may be:

“Are you still here?”

And underneath:

“How could you do this to me?”

may be:

“Did I matter to you?”

Understanding these dynamics doesn’t excuse harmful behavior.

It helps us understand why relationships can become emotionally charged so quickly.

A Simple Comparison for Everyone

If the word grace feels unfamiliar, religious, or even uncomfortable to you, consider this simpler definition:

Grace is giving yourself or another person room to be human without allowing a mistake, failure, or difficult moment to become the entire definition of their worth.

Or even more simply:

Grace is compassion in the presence of imperfection.

From a Christian perspective, I understand grace as something deeper than psychology can measure: God’s unearned favor and love extended to us through Christ.

From a psychological perspective, we can examine related human behaviors and processes—such as self-compassion, forgiveness, responsiveness, and constructive relationship repair.

The two perspectives have different foundations.

But they can meet around a shared human question:

Can we acknowledge what is wrong without deciding that the person is worthless?

That question matters whether your understanding of grace begins with God or with our shared humanity.

1. Grace Begins With How We Treat Ourselves

One of the hardest places to practice grace can be the place where we live every day:

inside our own minds.

Think about the things you say to yourself after making a mistake.

Would you speak to someone you love the way you sometimes speak to yourself?

I should have known better.

How could I be so stupid?

I always mess things up.

I’ll never get this right.

What’s wrong with me?

Self-compassion research offers an alternative.

Rather than responding to ourselves with harsh judgment, self-compassion encourages a supportive response to our own suffering and shortcomings (Neff, 2023).

And research suggests that compassion toward ourselves does not necessarily reduce our motivation to improve.

In four experiments, Breines and Chen (2012) found that participants who responded to personal failures with self-compassion demonstrated greater motivation for self-improvement in several situations, including making amends after a moral transgression and investing effort after failure.

That is important.

Grace is not:

“I did nothing wrong, so it doesn’t matter.”

Grace can instead sound like:

“I did something wrong. I can take responsibility for it. And I don’t have to destroy myself because of it.”

That is a very different way of responding to failure.

2. Grace Does Not Mean Removing Accountability

This distinction matters enormously.

Grace is not the same thing as excusing harmful behavior.

Forgiveness is not automatically the same thing as reconciliation.

Compassion is not the same thing as allowing someone to continue hurting you.

And loving someone does not require remaining in an unsafe relationship.

Healthy grace can hold two truths at the same time:

“What happened matters.”

and

“You still have value.”

You can say:

“What you did was wrong” without saying “You are worthless.”

You can say:

“I made a mistake” without saying “I am a failure.”

You can say:

“This behavior cannot continue” while still recognizing the humanity of the person involved.

Psychological research on conflict supports the importance of context. Overall and McNulty (2017) explain that different communication strategies can be beneficial depending on the nature of the problem. Direct opposition can be useful when serious problems genuinely need to change, while cooperative approaches such as affection and validation can be beneficial in other circumstances.

In other words:

Kindness does not mean avoiding difficult conversations.

Sometimes grace sounds like:

“I love you enough to tell you the truth.”

And sometimes grace sounds like:

“I love you, but I cannot continue participating in this pattern.”

Both can be expressions of care.

3. Grace Changes the Way We See Other People

Scripture connects the way Christians treat others with the grace and forgiveness they have received from God.

Ephesians 4:32 instructs believers to be kind, compassionate, and forgiving toward one another, connecting that forgiveness with God’s forgiveness in Christ.

Ephesians 4:32 — KJV

Proverbs 17:9 also speaks about the relational consequences of continually revisiting offenses:

“He that covereth a transgression seeketh love: but he that repeateth a matter separateth very friends.”

Proverbs 17:9 — KJV

Biblical grace does not require us to pretend that wrongdoing didn’t happen.

Rather, it challenges us to consider what we do after something has happened.

Do we seek understanding?

Do we pursue reconciliation when appropriate?

Do we forgive?

Do we establish boundaries?

Do we learn?

Or do we keep the person permanently imprisoned in the worst thing they have ever done?

Psychological research on forgiveness offers a related perspective. Braithwaite et al. (2011) found that forgiveness in romantic relationships was associated with greater relational effort and less negative conflict, which helped explain its relationship with relationship satisfaction.

Forgiveness does not erase history.

It changes our relationship with the history.

4. Grace Makes Room for Relationship Repair

Relationships experience ruptures.

People misunderstand each other.

They become defensive.

Someone says something they regret.

Someone fails to show up emotionally.

Someone feels rejected.

Someone gets hurt.

Conflict itself isn’t necessarily proof that a relationship is beyond repair.

Research on attachment and couple conflict shows that conflict can be stressful and can influence relationship functioning, particularly when it is severe or persistent (Feeney & Karantzas, 2017).

What matters is what happens next.

Can we repair?

Can we listen?

Can we acknowledge what happened?

Can we take responsibility?

Can we communicate what we need?

Can we respond to the other person’s needs?

Research on constructive conflict resolution emphasizes the importance of responsiveness—recognizing and responding to the specific needs that arise within a conflict rather than relying on a one-size-fits-all response (Sasaki & Overall, 2023).

This is where grace becomes a powerful relational idea.

Grace doesn’t require us to pretend the rupture never happened.

Grace gives us room to repair what happened without requiring either person to become perfect first.

5. Grace and Attachment: “Are You Still Here?”

Attachment theory helps explain why relationship ruptures can feel so significant.

Human beings are relational. In close relationships, we pay attention to whether the people we depend on are available and responsive.

When conflict becomes severe or persistent, attachment concerns can become activated, influencing how partners respond to one another (Feeney & Karantzas, 2017).

That means a relational message such as:

“We can work through this.”

can be very different from:

“You failed, therefore you’re out.”

Again, this does not mean every relationship should be preserved.

Some relationships are unsafe.

Some patterns require boundaries.

Some relationships need professional intervention.

Some relationships need distance.

But in healthy relationships, the ability to experience conflict without immediately treating the relationship as permanently destroyed can create room for repair.

Grace says:

“This matters. And so do you.”

6. Grace Versus a Performance-Based Relationship

Think about the difference.

Area	Without Grace	With Grace
Self-talk	“I failed, so something is wrong with me.”	“I failed, and I can learn from what happened.”
Conflict	“You did this before, and I’m keeping the evidence.”	“Let’s address what happened and decide what needs to change.”
Accountability	“You are your mistake.”	“Your behavior matters, and you are capable of taking responsibility.”
Growth	“I have to become perfect to be worthy.”	“I can grow without making perfection the price of belonging.”
Forgiveness	“You owe me forever.”	“What happened mattered, but I don’t have to remain consumed by it.”
Boundaries	“Grace means I have to tolerate this.”	“I can extend compassion and still establish healthy boundaries.”
Relationships	“One mistake could cost me the relationship.”	“We can acknowledge rupture, take responsibility, and work toward repair when it is safe and appropriate.”

Grace doesn’t remove standards.

It separates standards from worth.

You can expect honesty without believing someone is worthless when they fail.

You can require accountability without using shame as your primary tool.

You can acknowledge harm without allowing the harm to become the entire identity of the person who caused it.

And you can hold yourself accountable without becoming your own worst enemy.

7. What Grace Can Look Like in Real Life

Grace isn’t merely an idea.

It becomes visible in what we do.

Grace toward yourself might sound like:

“I wish I had handled that differently. I can learn from it without condemning myself.”

Grace toward your spouse might sound like:

“I’m hurt by what happened, and I want us to talk about it rather than attack each other.”

Grace toward your child might sound like:

“Your behavior needs to change, but this mistake does not change how deeply I love you.”

Grace toward a friend might sound like:

“I was disappointed that you weren’t there. Can we talk about what happened?”

Grace toward someone who has hurt you might sound like:

“I am choosing forgiveness, but forgiveness does not mean I have to remove the boundary that protects me.”

Grace from God might sound like:

“My failure is real, but it is not greater than God’s grace.”

8. Grace Is Not Weakness

Sometimes we confuse grace with being passive.

But grace can require tremendous strength.

It can require us to stop reacting long enough to respond thoughtfully.

It can require us to tell the truth without cruelty.

It can require us to apologize.

It can require us to forgive.

It can require us to establish boundaries.

It can require us to release the need to punish ourselves or someone else indefinitely.

And sometimes grace requires us to accept something incredibly difficult:

We cannot control another person’s choices.

We can only choose how we respond.

What If We Stopped Making Perfection the Price of Belonging?

Think about how exhausting performance-based living can become.

We demand perfection from ourselves.

We expect flawless execution from the people we love.

We keep score.

We replay conversations.

We hold onto old mistakes.

We criticize ourselves for not doing enough.

And then we wonder why we feel exhausted.

Maybe the answer isn’t that we simply need to try harder.

Maybe we need to learn a different way of responding to imperfection.

Grace.

Not grace that ignores reality.

Not grace that excuses abuse.

Not grace that eliminates accountability.

But grace that says:

You are more than your worst moment.

Your mistake can be acknowledged without becoming your identity.

Your behavior can be addressed without destroying your worth.

You can take responsibility without living in shame.

And when it is safe and appropriate, relationships can have room for mistakes, accountability, forgiveness, and repair.

That is where grace becomes more than a beautiful word.

It becomes a way of living.

A Practice in Grace

Let’s make this practical.

1. Give yourself 60 seconds.

Think of one mistake you are still holding against yourself.

Don’t deny it.

Don’t justify it.

Simply acknowledge it.

Then ask:

“What can I learn from this without condemning myself?”

You might say:

I made a mistake. I take responsibility for my part. I can learn, repair what I can, and choose a different response moving forward.

2. Put down the scoreboard.

Think about one relationship where you are keeping track of every offense.

Ask yourself:

“Is remembering this helping me create healthy boundaries—or is it keeping me trapped in resentment?”

Those are not always the same thing.

You may need the memory in order to maintain a boundary.

But you don’t necessarily have to keep reliving the pain.

3. Practice both grace and truth.

Ask:

What needs to be acknowledged?

What needs to be repaired?

What needs to be forgiven?

What boundary needs to remain?

What am I making this person’s behavior mean about their worth—or my own?

A Final Thought

Grace doesn’t tell us that what happened doesn’t matter.

Grace tells us that what happened doesn’t have to be the end of the story.

There is room for truth.

There is room for accountability.

There is room for boundaries.

There is room for forgiveness.

There is room for growth.

And, through Christ, there is room for grace.

Romans 8:1 speaks of no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Romans 8:1 — KJV

That doesn’t mean there are no consequences for our choices.

It means condemnation does not have to be the voice that defines us.

So perhaps the question isn’t simply:

“How can I become better?”

Perhaps we also need to ask:

“Can I learn to become better without believing I have to become perfect to be worthy of love?”

Because healing isn’t about becoming someone new.

It is about uncovering who you were created to be—and learning to live from that truth.

And maybe grace is part of that becoming.

Give yourself some.

Receive some.

Extend some.

And when grace and truth need to stand together, let them.

Because healthy growth doesn’t require us to stop being human.

It requires us to learn how to be human with compassion, responsibility, courage, and love.

APA 7 References

Breines, J. G., & Chen, S. (2012). Self-compassion increases self-improvement motivation. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 38(9), 1133–1143. https://doi.org/10.1177/0146167212445599

Braithwaite, S. R., Selby, E. A., & Fincham, F. D. (2011). Forgiveness and relationship satisfaction: Mediating mechanisms. Journal of Family Psychology, 25(4), 551–559. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0024526

Feeney, J. A., & Karantzas, G. C. (2017). Couple conflict: Insights from an attachment perspective. Current Opinion in Psychology, 13, 60–64. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.copsyc.2016.04.017

Neff, K. D. (2023). Self-compassion: Theory, method, research, and intervention. Annual Review of Psychology, 74, 193–218. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev-psych-032420-031047

Overall, N. C., & McNulty, J. K. (2017). What type of communication during conflict is beneficial for intimate relationships? Current Opinion in Psychology, 13, 1–5. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.copsyc.2016.03.002

Sasaki, E., & Overall, N. C. (2023). Constructive conflict resolution requires tailored responsiveness to specific needs. Current Opinion in Psychology, 52, 101638. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.copsyc.2023.101638

Zessin, U., Dickhäuser, O., & Garbade, S. (2015). The relationship between self-compassion and well-being: A meta-analysis. Applied Psychology: Health and Well-Being, 7(3), 340–364. https://doi.org/10.1111/aphw.12051

Biblical References

For the Scripture passages, I would not add the Bible as a conventional APA journal/book reference to your website reference list. APA 7 treats classical religious works differently from ordinary contemporary sources. The relevant passages are identified in the text by book, chapter, and verse:

Genesis 1:27
Romans 3:23–24
Romans 8:1
Ephesians 2:8–9
Ephesians 4:32
Proverbs 17:9

Family Life Education, Healing Journey, Making a Difference, Self-Discovery

From Fear to Voice: Becoming an Advocate and Warrior for Survivors of Abuse

October 1, 2026 Beyond Possibilities

Trigger Warning: This blog includes descriptions of emotional, financial, sexual, and physical abuse. Triggers are different for everyone, and you never know when they may show up. I am sharing my story in hopes of helping others feel less alone, recognize that abuse is not their fault, and know that healing is possible. October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month.

When I published my first blog in October of 2014, I did so anonymously out of fear.

Fear from my ex-husband, his family, and my family.

I felt like my experiences were shameful, and I still felt like it was my fault.

So the fear and shame kept me from getting the help I needed.

I wanted to help others not feel like I did, but I was not ready to be completely honest about who I was and my experiences.

I come from a completely different place now.

I come from a place of compassion for myself and everyone else.

This was something that was unfamiliar to most of the people in my life.

I didn’t know who I was back then, and I am still a work in progress.

As I share, I want to be clear: some of the things I share may trigger someone.

Triggers are different for everyone. You never know when they are going to show up. I am sharing in hopes of helping others.

I want to go back to where it all started.

I was set up on a blind date by my mom and one of her co-workers. We only dated for a short time before we got engaged, and then we were married in June of 1996.

Within the second month of our marriage, he was constantly berating me.

He demanded I do my hair and makeup every day so I was presentable. I didn’t wear makeup most days while we were dating, and I generally wore my hair in a ponytail.

The abuse then became financial.

I came home several times to him telling me he had quit his job for one reason or another. I then had to work extra to pay the bills.

In the two years we were married, he had 10 different jobs.

As I filed for a protective order, I discovered he had actually been fired from most of those jobs—and several times he had been escorted out by police.

The abuse became sexual and physical.

He demanded sex two or three times a day. If I said “no,” he forcibly raped me and told me it was his right because he was my husband.

He would then tell me that if I told anyone, he would kill me.

There were many times I would lie on the bathroom floor praying that he would just kill me so I didn’t have to go through it anymore.

I am sharing these words now because I know something I didn’t know then:

What happened to me was abuse.

It wasn’t my fault.

And being married to someone never gave that person the right to my body.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC, 2026) defines intimate partner violence as abuse or aggression that occurs within a romantic relationship and includes physical violence, sexual violence, stalking, and psychological aggression. Sexual violence includes sexual activity when consent is not obtained or freely given.

I didn’t have those words when I was living it.

I had confusion.

I had fear.

I had shame.

I had survival.

And I had a growing belief that maybe something was wrong with me.

Looking Back at the Woman I Was

I can see the growth in my writing when I go back and read that first blog.

In October 2014, I wrote Opening a Dialog About Abuse.

I wrote about how abuse can take many forms—emotional, verbal, psychological, sexual, physical, neglect, family violence, and domestic or spousal violence.

I wrote about manipulation.

Blaming.

Threats.

Financial control.

Controlling what someone wears or how they look.

Isolation.

Forced sex.

Physical violence.

And the fear that keeps someone from telling the truth.

But underneath those words was a woman who was still trying to understand her own story.

I was beginning to speak, but I was still afraid of being heard.

That matters.

Because sometimes breaking the silence doesn’t happen in one dramatic moment.

Sometimes it happens one sentence at a time.

One conversation at a time.

One person telling the truth to another safe person.

One survivor realizing:

Maybe it wasn’t me.

I Didn’t Understand How Much the Abuse Had Changed Me

When I finally left my abusive marriage, I thought getting out would mean I was okay.

It didn’t.

I was out.

But I was still afraid.

I struggled with nightmares. I was hyperaware of my surroundings. I didn’t always know what would trigger me. I felt alone, insecure, unlovable, and broken.

I wrote about this in Getting Out of My Abusive Marriage.

Looking back, I can see something important:

Leaving the abuse and healing from the abuse were two different journeys.

Getting physically safe mattered tremendously.

But safety did not automatically erase what had happened.

Even years later, certain sounds, smells, words, memories, or situations could bring my body right back into a place of fear.

That is something I have written about many times over the years.

In Let’s Talk About Triggers, I explored the reality that triggers are deeply personal. What triggers one survivor may not trigger another.

That is why I have become careful about telling people what their healing should look like.

There is no one-size-fits-all healing journey.

Healing Became More Than Surviving

For a long time, I thought healing meant getting rid of everything painful.

Now I see it differently.

Healing has become learning to meet myself with compassion.

It has meant learning to listen to my thoughts, emotions, body, and spirit instead of constantly fighting against them.

It has meant learning that I can acknowledge what happened without allowing what happened to become my entire identity.

That idea has become central to the work I do today through Beyond Possibilities.

Healing isn’t about becoming someone new—it’s about uncovering who you’ve always been created to be.

Our experiences shape us.

Our childhood experiences shape us.

Our relationships shape us.

The things people say to us can shape the beliefs we carry about ourselves.

But beliefs can change.

The story can continue.

And becoming is a process.

That doesn’t mean pretending the past didn’t happen.

It means recognizing that the past does not have to write every chapter that comes after it.

My newer writing has moved into this space of listening to the mind, body, and spirit, using practices such as mindful breathing, movement, gratitude, reflective journaling, meditation, prayer, and emotional awareness as opportunities for self-reflection and emotional wellness.

For me, healing has become a daily practice rather than a finish line.

Healing is a journey, not a destination.

From Survivor to Warrior

In 2014, I wrote another blog titled No More Victims! We Need Warriors!.

At the time, I was trying to understand what it meant to reclaim my power.

I wrote about becoming a survivor.

And then I wrote about becoming a warrior.

Today, I would describe that word a little differently.

Being a warrior doesn’t mean I have to fight everyone.

It doesn’t mean I have to be angry all the time.

It doesn’t mean I have to prove how strong I am.

And it certainly doesn’t mean that a survivor has to identify as a warrior if that word doesn’t feel right to them.

For me, warrior means courage.

It means I am willing to face what happened.

It means I am willing to tell the truth.

It means I am willing to keep healing.

It means I am willing to stand beside someone else who is still afraid.

It means I can use my voice for something bigger than myself.

That is where advocacy entered my healing journey.

Becoming an Advocate

I don’t advocate for survivors because I have all the answers.

I advocate because I remember what it felt like to believe I was alone.

I remember being afraid.

I remember the shame.

I remember questioning myself.

I remember not knowing what was normal.

I remember what it felt like to believe I was responsible for someone else’s behavior.

And I remember how powerful it was when someone believed me.

Domestic violence is not always visible.

The CDC recognizes that intimate partner violence can include physical violence, sexual violence, stalking, and psychological aggression, and that it can have lasting effects on health and well-being (CDC, 2026).

That means advocacy isn’t only about talking about physical injuries.

It is also about talking about control.

Isolation.

Financial abuse.

Sexual coercion.

Manipulation.

Psychological abuse.

Stalking.

And the many ways someone can gradually lose their sense of self inside an abusive relationship.

My 2024 article, Breaking the Silence: Understanding the Hidden Signs of Domestic Violence and How to Help, came from that place.

It wasn’t only about survivors.

It was also about the people around them.

Because sometimes the person being abused isn’t ready to say, “I’m being abused.”

But someone who loves them may notice that they have become isolated.

They may notice fear.

Changes in behavior.

Financial control.

A constant need to keep their partner happy.

And sometimes the most important thing we can do is simply become a safe person.

Listen.

Believe them.

Don’t judge them.

Don’t demand that they leave before they are ready or able to do so.

Help them find appropriate resources.

And keep the door open.

The CDC identifies strategies for preventing intimate partner violence that include strengthening healthy relationship skills, engaging communities, creating protective environments, and supporting survivors (CDC, 2024).

Advocacy Doesn’t Mean We Have to Be Perfect

This is something I have had to learn personally.

I used to think I needed to have everything figured out before I could help anyone else.

I don’t believe that anymore.

I am still becoming.

I am still learning.

I still have moments when something catches me off guard.

I still have emotions.

I still have days when healing feels easier than others.

And I think that is important to say.

Because survivors don’t need other people pretending to be perfect.

They need people who are willing to be real.

They need people who understand that healing can be messy.

They need people who will not shame them for struggling.

They need people who will not tell them how quickly they should heal.

They need people who will sit beside them in the hard places and remind them:

You are still here.

Your story is not over.

You are worthy of support.

What happened to you does not determine your worth.

We Can Be Warriors Without Losing Our Compassion

One of the biggest changes in me has been moving from fighting everything to learning compassion.

Compassion for myself.

Compassion for the woman I was.

Compassion for the choices I made when I was afraid.

Compassion for the things I didn’t understand.

And compassion for other people whose journeys look completely different from mine.

I don’t know everything another survivor has experienced.

I don’t know every reason they stayed.

I don’t know every reason they went back.

I don’t know what resources they had—or didn’t have.

I don’t know what threats they were facing.

I don’t know what their children were experiencing.

I don’t know what their faith journey looked like.

I don’t know what their body was experiencing.

So I don’t want to judge their journey.

I want to support their journey.

That distinction matters.

We Need More People Willing to Break the Silence

I look back at the woman who anonymously published that first blog in 2014, and I feel compassion for her.

She was scared.

She was ashamed.

She was trying to make sense of something that had changed her life.

But she also had something else.

She had a desire to help someone else.

Even when I couldn’t tell the whole truth yet, I wanted someone else to know they weren’t alone.

That desire eventually became a voice.

The voice became a message.

The message became advocacy.

And advocacy became part of my healing.

My journey has moved from “What happened to me?”

“What can I do with what I have learned?”

That doesn’t erase the past.

It gives the past a different place in my story.

To the Survivor Who Is Reading This

If you are currently experiencing abuse, please know this:

You do not have to figure everything out today.

You do not have to explain everything perfectly.

You do not have to prove your experience to me.

And you do not have to heal according to anyone else’s timeline.

If you are in immediate danger, contact emergency services.

In the United States, the National Domestic Violence Hotline provides confidential support and access to advocates. You can call 800-799-SAFE (7233), text START to 88788, or use their online chat (National Domestic Violence Hotline, n.d.).

If contacting a resource could put you at greater risk because someone monitors your phone or internet activity, consider your digital safety and use a safer device or method of communication when possible. The National Domestic Violence Hotline provides digital-safety guidance for people concerned about monitored internet use (National Domestic Violence Hotline, n.d.).

And if you are not currently in an abusive situation but you are carrying the effects of one from your past, I want you to know something I had to learn for myself:

Getting out is not the end of the story.

There can still be healing.

There can still be growth.

There can still be joy.

There can still be love.

There can still be purpose.

There can still be possibilities.

A Mindful Healing Playlist

Music has been part of my healing journey for years.

Sometimes words aren’t enough.

Sometimes a song can reach a place inside us that conversation cannot.

Sometimes we need permission to cry.

Sometimes we need permission to breathe.

Sometimes we need to move.

Sometimes we need to remember that we are still here.

I am including a three-song Mindful Healing Playlist with this article because healing doesn’t always happen while we are sitting still and talking about our experiences.

Sometimes healing happens when we breathe.

When we move.

When we pray.

When we sing.

When we cry.

When we allow ourselves to feel.

When we remember that our bodies belong to us.

When we remember that our voices belong to us.

And when we begin to discover what is possible on the other side of survival.

From Survivor to Advocate to Warrior

When I look back across more than a decade of writing, I can see the evolution.

In 2014, I was afraid to put my name on my story.

I was learning how to speak.

Then I was learning how to leave.

Then I was learning how to live.

Then I was learning how to heal.

Then I began learning how to help others.

And now I am still becoming.

My story is not simply a story about abuse.

It is a story about what happened after the abuse.

It is a story about finding my voice.

It is a story about learning compassion.

It is a story about discovering that I am more than what happened to me.

It is a story about reclaiming pieces of myself.

It is a story about learning to listen to my mind, body, and spirit.

It is a story about faith.

It is a story about courage.

And it is a story about possibility.

Today, I can say:

I am a survivor.

I am an advocate.

And yes, I am a warrior.

Not because I am fearless.

But because I have learned that courage can exist right alongside fear.

Not because I have forgotten what happened.

But because I refuse to let what happened be the only thing my story is about.

Not because I have finished healing.

But because I am willing to keep healing.

And not because I have all the answers.

But because I am willing to keep learning, keep listening, keep speaking, and keep showing up.

To the Survivors. To the Supporters. To the Advocates. To the Warriors.

If you are a survivor, your healing matters.

If you are supporting a survivor, your presence matters.

If you are an advocate, your voice matters.

If you are a warrior, your courage matters.

But perhaps most importantly:

We don’t have to heal alone.

We don’t have to carry someone else’s story for them.

We don’t have to have all the answers.

We can simply become people who listen.

People who believe.

People who offer compassion instead of judgment.

People who help connect survivors with appropriate resources.

People who speak when silence has protected abuse.

People who teach healthy relationships.

People who help create communities where safety, respect, consent, and dignity matter.

And we can remember that healing looks different for every person.

My hope is that my story doesn’t tell you what your healing should look like.

My hope is that it reminds you that healing is possible.

That your story can change.

That your voice can return.

That you can discover parts of yourself you thought were gone forever.

That you can move from surviving toward living.

And that one day, you may find yourself standing beside someone else who is where you once were.

You may not be able to change what happened to them.

But you can remind them:

You are not alone.

I see you.

I believe you.

You deserve support.

Your life matters.

And maybe that is what being an advocate and a warrior really means.

We don’t fight for someone by taking away their power.

We stand with them while they reclaim their own.

We don’t tell them who they are.

We remind them that they get to discover who they are becoming.

We don’t erase their story.

We help create space for a new chapter.

Because healing is not about becoming someone new.

It is about uncovering who you’ve always been created to be.

And sometimes the greatest act of courage is simply being willing to say:

“This happened to me.

I survived.

I am healing.

I am becoming.

And I will use my voice to help someone else know they are not alone.”

That is advocacy.

That is courage.

That is the warrior within.

And that is the possibility of healing.

References

Beyond Abuse Essential Healing. (2014, October 4). Opening a dialog about abuse. https://beyondabuseessentialhealing.com/2014/10/04/opening-a-dialog-about-abuse/

Beyond Abuse Essential Healing. (2014, October 31). No more victims! We need warriors! https://beyondabuseessentialhealing.com/2014/10/31/we-are-not-victims-we-are-warriors/

Beyond Abuse Essential Healing. (2015, February 11). Getting out of my abusive marriage. https://beyondabuseessentialhealing.com/2015/02/11/getting-out-of-my-abusive-marriage/

Beyond Abuse Essential Healing. (2018, May 16). Let’s talk about triggers. https://beyondabuseessentialhealing.com/2018/05/16/lets-talk-about-triggers/

Beyond Abuse Essential Healing. (2024, October 17). Breaking the silence: Understanding the hidden signs of domestic violence and how to help. https://beyondabuseessentialhealing.com/2024/10/17/breaking-the-silence-understanding-the-hidden-signs-of-domestic-violence-and-how-to-help/

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (2024, February 8). Preventing intimate partner violence. National Center for Injury Prevention and Control. https://www.cdc.gov/intimate-partner-violence/prevention/

Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. (2026, August 19). About intimate partner violence. National Center for Injury Prevention and Control. https://www.cdc.gov/intimate-partner-violence/about/

National Domestic Violence Hotline. (n.d.). Get help. https://www.thehotline.org/get-help/

Family Life Education, Making a Difference, Self-Discovery

What Happens When Women Stop Competing and Start Building Each Other Up

September 28, 2026September 28, 2026 Beyond Possibilities

Turning 51 has given me a lot to think about.

Not just about the years behind me, but about the people who have walked beside me through them.

Last Saturday I was headed to Florida for doTERRA Convention. A few of my doTERRA team decided to do a team party prior to convention in Disney World. We have know each other longer than we have done doTERRA. I am from Utah, Ronai is from Minnesota, Kyle is from Colorado, and Aly is from Texas, but has relocated to Florida. Aly and Kyle are seasoned Disney People and Ronai and I had never been before.

As I started my trip at the airport I heard a familiar voice. It was Kim and Kirk Duncan who were also heading to the doTERRA Convention.

Several years ago, Joseph and I took some self improvement courses from them including Royalty and Romance. The voice in my head almost stopped me from saying something to them. But I didn’t let it win. I took the opportunity to thank them for the impact they made on me. We then shot the following video together.

I am grateful for 50 years of experience.

I’m grateful for the people who saw me, accepted me, and loved me where I was when they met me. I’m grateful for the people who helped me keep going when things were difficult.

Because the woman you see today has survived some things.

Anxiety. Depression. Suicidal thoughts. Verbal abuse. Financial abuse. Physical abuse. Sexual abuse.

And I’m not ashamed to talk about it.

I’m not ashamed to say that I still have hard days.

If anything, those experiences have taught me something I wish every woman could know:

You don’t have to go through life alone.

And you don’t have to pretend you’re okay when you’re not.

It’s okay to say, “I’m not okay.”

It’s okay to stand up for yourself.

It’s okay to say, “The way you’re treating me isn’t okay.”

It’s okay to set boundaries.

It’s okay to be different.

And perhaps most importantly…

It’s okay to let people love you.

The gift of women who show up

Last Saturday, I traveled to Florida to spend time with friends.

And somewhere between the travel, the conversations, the laughter, the ridiculous moments, and the memories we were making, I found myself thinking about how incredibly important women are to one another.

Not women who compete with you.

Not women who secretly hope you stumble.

Not women who make you question whether you’re enough.

Women who build you.

Women who celebrate you.

Women who make you laugh until your face hurts.

Women who can see something beautiful in you when you can’t see it yourself.

Women who remind you that your story isn’t over.

Women who can sit beside you in the messy chapters and still see the good that is coming.

That’s the kind of friendship I want in my life.

And that’s the kind of woman I want to be for other women.

We don’t have to tear someone down to shine

I think sometimes women have been taught that there isn’t enough room.

Not enough beauty.

Not enough success.

Not enough attention.

Not enough opportunity.

Not enough love.

So we compare.

We compete.

We judge.

We hold back compliments because somehow celebrating another woman feels like taking something away from ourselves.

But what if we decided there is room for all of us?

What if your success didn’t threaten mine?

What if my strength could remind you of yours?

What if your courage gave another woman permission to be courageous?

What if we stopped asking, “How does she have that?”

and started asking,

“How can I help her get there too?”

That’s what building women looks like.

It looks like encouragement.

It looks like sharing what we’ve learned.

It looks like making introductions.

It looks like celebrating someone’s birthday.

It looks like checking in.

It looks like telling another woman, “I’m proud of you.”

It looks like sitting around a table laughing until you cry.

Sometimes it looks like a plane ticket to Florida.

And sometimes it simply looks like a text that says, “Hey. I was thinking about you.”

This is what 51 feels like

At 51, I’m realizing that I don’t want a life that just looks good from the outside.

I want a life that feels good on the inside.

I want laughter.

I want friendship.

I want adventure.

I want honest conversations.

I want women around me who aren’t afraid to be real.

And I want to be that woman for them.

I am incredibly grateful for the people who have loved me through every version of myself.

I’m grateful Joseph saw something in me that I couldn’t see in myself.

I’m grateful for his love, support, understanding, and playfulness.

And I’m grateful for Ronai, Kyle, Aly, Tina, Amy, and Sonya for the joy, magic, and love I will cherish for the rest of my life.

These are the people who remind me that life isn’t just about what we’ve survived.

It’s about what we get to experience because we kept going.

So here’s to 51.

Here’s to living the rest of my life full out.

Here’s to better sleep, better nutrition, workouts, adventures, ridiculous laughter, deep friendships, and making memories that make me smile years from now.

And here’s to women who build women.

Because I believe the world needs more of us.

Be the woman who reminds another woman how powerful she is.
Be the woman who celebrates her.
Be the woman who makes room for her.
Be the woman who says, “I’ve got you.”

And when you find women like that?

Hold onto them.

They are magic. ❤️

I was overjoyed as I felt the magic of experience Disney World for the very first time, but also from the magic of women supporting and caring for each other. It started out the 4 of us and we met up with a few other friends along the way that made the experience even better. I have not laughed or scream that hard in a very long time. I am so grateful for the opportunity to learn from such an incredible experience. There where times of complete sensory overload, but I would not change it for the world.

Maybe that’s what happens when women stop competing and start building each other up.

We stop wondering if there is enough room for us.

We stop measuring our worth against someone else’s.

We start celebrating instead of comparing.

We start reaching back and bringing someone with us.

We start realizing that another woman’s light doesn’t make ours any dimmer.

It makes the whole room brighter. ✨

Here’s to shining bright and lifting others up!

All you need is a little confetti and pixie dust!

Family Life Education, Self-Discovery

When the Noise Gets Louder Than Your Calling: Finding Yourself Again When You Doubt Who God Created You to Be

September 17, 2026 Beyond Possibilities

There are seasons when you don’t just doubt yourself.

You forget yourself.

You forget the woman you were becoming. You forget the dreams that once made your heart come alive. You forget the things you know God placed inside of you. And somewhere between the opinions, expectations, criticism, comparison, disappointment, and well-meaning advice from everyone around you, the noise becomes louder than your own voice.

Louder than your faith.

Louder than your purpose.

Louder than the quiet knowing in your spirit that says, Keep going.

Maybe you’ve been there.

I know I have.

Sometimes self-doubt doesn’t arrive as one giant thought saying, You can’t do this.

When everyone has an opinion, it can become difficult to hear your own voice.

It comes in whispers.

Who do you think you are?

You’re not qualified.

Someone else is already doing this.

Maybe you misunderstood what God was asking you to do.

What if they are right?

What if you fail?

What if people judge you?

And if we listen long enough, those whispers can start sounding like truth.

But a thought is not automatically a fact.

And somebody else’s opinion is not automatically God’s direction for your life.

Sometimes you have to get quiet enough to remember who you are

One of the most important things I’ve learned about self-doubt is that I cannot always think my way out of it.

Sometimes I have to step away from the noise.

I have to stop consuming everybody else’s opinions and start remembering my own values, my own story, my own strengths, and most importantly, what I believe God has placed in front of me.

This doesn’t mean ignoring wise counsel.

God can absolutely use people to speak wisdom into our lives.

But there is a difference between wise counsel and constant noise.

Wise counsel can challenge you without destroying your identity.

Noise makes you question your identity altogether.

And when I’ve lost sight of who I am, one of the most practical places I can return to is my strengths.

Your strengths can remind you of what is already inside you

I recently spent time going through my CliftonStrengths 34 report, and it reminded me of something important: I don’t have to become somebody else to move forward.

I need to become more intentional about using what God has already placed in me.

My top strengths where I thrive are:

Woo
Developer
Responsibility
Communication
Strategic
Positivity
Belief
Individualization
Empathy
Discipline
Futuristic
Achiever
Activator
Includer

My report says my strongest themes are the starting point for living my strongest life and encourages me to develop and use them every day.

That matters because self-doubt often convinces us that we need to become someone completely different.

Maybe I need to be more outgoing.

More confident.

More organized.

More successful.

More like her.

But what if the answer isn’t becoming more like somebody else?

What if the answer is becoming more fully you?

Research on strengths-based development supports this idea. Gallup’s research has found that people who have opportunities to use their strengths are more likely to be engaged and to report that they have the opportunity to do what they do best. Strengths-based development has also been associated with improvements in organizational outcomes.

That doesn’t mean strengths are magic.

It means there is value in understanding how you naturally think, connect, communicate, contribute, and solve problems, and then intentionally developing those abilities.

And that changes the question.

Instead of asking:

“What’s wrong with me?”

I can start asking:

“What has God already placed in me that I need to steward?”

That’s a completely different question.

What if your strengths are part of the answer?

When I look at my own strengths, I can see patterns.

Woo reminds me that I am built for connection.

My report describes Woo as a natural ability to break the ice, connect with people, and put people at ease.

So when fear tells me, Nobody wants to hear from you, I can remember:

Connection is one of the ways I naturally contribute.

I don’t have to force myself to become someone else.

I can start a conversation.

I can listen.

I can encourage.

I can show up.

Developer reminds me that I naturally see potential in people.

Developer is about recognizing and cultivating potential in others.

So perhaps part of my calling isn’t just what I accomplish.

Maybe it is who I help become.

Maybe I don’t need to have everything figured out before I can encourage somebody else.

I can simply see the possibility in them and help them take the next step.

Communication reminds me that my words matter.

My report describes Communication as a talent for putting thoughts into words and using conversation to connect and inspire others.

That means my story doesn’t have to be perfect to be valuable.

Sometimes the very thing I am afraid to say may be the thing someone else needed to hear.

Marina Simone’s training has repeatedly emphasized authentic storytelling, authenticity, and sharing personal experiences as a way of building genuine connection.

That doesn’t mean oversharing.

It means telling the truth about the journey.

“This is where I was. This is what I learned. This is where I am going.”

Strategic reminds me that I don’t have to panic when the path isn’t obvious.

Strategic is one of my top five. My report describes it as the ability to see patterns, identify possibilities, and create alternative ways forward.

So when I don’t know exactly how something will work out, I don’t have to assume that means God isn’t in it.

Sometimes I simply need to pause, pray, think, and identify the next faithful step.

Not the next 47 steps.

Just the next one.

Positivity reminds me that hope is part of how I contribute.

My Positivity strength gives me a natural tendency toward encouragement and optimism.

But here’s an important lesson from my own report:

Positivity does not mean pretending everything is fine.

The report actually warns that sometimes people need to be heard before they’re ready to hear the bright side.

That’s powerful.

Faith doesn’t require fake positivity.

I can say:

“This hurts.”

“I’m disappointed.”

“I’m scared.”

“I don’t understand.”

And still say:

“God is faithful.”

Those two things can exist in the same room.

And then there is Belief.

This one feels especially important.

Belief is #7 for me.

My report says that people strong in Belief have core values that provide purpose and that those values can provide clarity, conviction, and stability. It specifically recommends honoring those values because they can keep you on course during difficult times.

That is exactly what I need when the noise gets loud.

Because when I forget who I am, I need something deeper than my mood to remind me.

I need my values.

I need my faith.

I need God’s Word.

I need to remember what I believe.

But here’s the part we don’t always talk about

Your strengths can also become distorted when you’re under pressure.

My report talks about strengths having potential blind spots. The goal isn’t to pretend weaknesses don’t exist. It’s to recognize where a strength might get in the way and learn how to manage it.

For me, that could look like this:

Responsibility can become over-responsibility.

My report specifically warns that because I can have difficulty saying no, I may overcommit.

Empathy can mean feeling everyone else’s emotions.

My report recommends intentionally disconnecting from other people’s emotions and developing ways to decompress.

Strategic can mean I see so many possibilities that I start analyzing everything.

Positivity can make me want to rush toward the good before I’ve allowed myself or someone else to process the hard.

Communication can make me want to explain everything when sometimes I simply need to listen.

Do you see it?

The problem isn’t necessarily that I have the wrong strengths.

Sometimes I am simply using the right strength in the wrong way.

And that is a very different thing.

So what do you do when you doubt yourself?

You come back to what is true.

Not what is loudest.

What is true.

Here’s the reset I’m learning to use.

1. Get quiet.

Before I make a major decision from a place of fear, I need space.

Less scrolling.

Less comparison.

Less asking everybody what they think.

More prayer.

More Scripture.

More reflection.

More silence.

“Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10, New International Version, 2011).

Sometimes clarity doesn’t need more information.

Sometimes it needs less noise.

2. Separate facts from feelings.

I can feel like I’m failing without actually being a failure.

I can feel behind without actually being behind.

I can feel afraid without that meaning I should stop.

Research on self-efficacy helps explain why this matters. Experiences of successfully handling challenges can strengthen our belief that we can handle future challenges, while stress and anxiety can undermine that belief.

So instead of asking:

“Do I feel confident?”

I can ask:

“What is the next thing I know how to do?”

Then do that.

Confidence doesn’t always come before action.

Sometimes confidence grows because we acted.

3. Remember your strengths.

Pull out your strengths report.

Write down your top five.

Then ask:

Where am I already using these?

Where could I use them more intentionally?

Which strength can help me with the challenge I’m facing right now?

For me:

Woo → connect
Developer → encourage
Responsibility → take ownership of what actually matters
Communication → tell the story
Strategic → look for the next path

That is a completely different mindset than:

“I’m not enough.”

4. Protect your mind from voices that continually shrink you.

Not every voice deserves equal access to your identity.

That doesn’t mean you reject correction.

It means you learn to distinguish correction from condemnation.

Ask:

Is this helping me become wiser, or is it making me afraid to become myself?

Is this counsel rooted in truth, or is it rooted in somebody else’s fear?

Does this challenge my behavior, or attack my identity?

Those questions can change everything.

5. Practice compassion instead of beating yourself into confidence.

Sometimes we think being hard on ourselves will make us stronger.

Research doesn’t support the idea that harsh self-criticism is the only path forward. A 2023 meta-analysis of 56 randomized controlled trials found that self-compassion interventions had small-to-medium effects on reducing depressive symptoms, anxiety, and stress, although the authors also noted that the overall risk of bias across the included studies was high and more rigorous research is needed (Han & Kim, 2023).

Self-compassion isn’t saying:

“Everything I do is perfect.”

It is saying:

“I am allowed to be human while I grow.”

And that sounds a lot more like grace to me.

6. Take one obedient step.

This is where faith meets action.

You don’t have to know how the whole story ends to take the next step.

Sometimes the next step is making the phone call.

Writing the post.

Having the conversation.

Starting the project.

Apologizing.

Resting.

Saying no.

Asking for help.

Trying again.

The Social Selling Foundations workbook uses a simple framework of Impact → Action → Income and emphasizes belief, consistent daily action, reflection, gratitude, and habits.

And I think that principle applies far beyond business.

Belief without action can stay stuck in our heads.

Action gives belief somewhere to go.

Stop trying to be someone else’s version of successful

This may be one of the biggest lessons for me.

I don’t need her strengths.

I don’t need her personality.

I don’t need her story.

I don’t need her platform.

I don’t need her timeline.

I don’t even need her definition of success.

I need to be faithful with what God gave me.

My CliftonStrengths report says my profile is uniquely mine and encourages me to understand how my talents shape what I do, how I do it, and why I do it.

That means my assignment may not look like somebody else’s.

And that’s okay.

God doesn’t need another version of them.

He already made them.

He made me too.

And He made you.

Your strengths are not your identity, but they can help you steward it

This distinction matters.

My identity does not come from a personality assessment.

It doesn’t come from my job.

It doesn’t come from social media.

It doesn’t come from how many people like me.

It doesn’t come from my accomplishments.

And it doesn’t disappear because somebody doesn’t believe in me.

My faith tells me my deepest identity comes from God.

My strengths simply help me understand some of the ways I may naturally contribute.

That’s why I don’t want to worship my strengths.

I want to steward them.

If I am good at communicating, I want to use my words well.

If I am good at connecting, I want to connect people.

If I am good at seeing potential, I want to call potential out in others.

If I am strategic, I want to use that ability to find wise paths.

If I am empathetic, I want to love people without carrying everyone else’s emotions.

If I am disciplined, I want to create rhythms that support what matters.

And if I have Belief, I want that belief to anchor me when everything around me gets loud.

When you forget who you are, return to what God said

Maybe you’re in a season where you have forgotten.

Maybe you’ve listened to too many voices.

Maybe disappointment has made you question the dream.

Maybe somebody else’s criticism became your inner dialogue.

Maybe you’ve been comparing yourself for so long that you can’t remember what your own voice sounds like.

If that’s you, take a breath.

You don’t have to figure everything out today.

Go back to God.

Go back to His Word.

Go back to your values.

Go back to your story.

Go back to the evidence of what you’ve already survived.

Go back to the strengths He has given you.

Go back to the people who remind you of who you really are.

And then ask one simple question:

“What is the next faithful step?”

Not the next perfect step.

Not the step that guarantees success.

Not the step that makes everyone happy.

The next faithful step.

Because sometimes courage isn’t feeling certain.

Sometimes courage is saying:

“I’m still scared, but I’m going to trust God and take the next step anyway.”

And maybe that’s what finding yourself again really looks like.

Not becoming somebody new.

But remembering who you were created to be.

And having the courage to live from that place.

A little “come back to yourself” exercise

Tonight, grab a piece of paper and write these five sentences:

1. God has placed ______ inside of me.

2. My natural strengths include ______.

3. The voices I’ve been listening to say ______.

4. What I believe God is reminding me is ______.

5. My next faithful step is ______.

Then do something.

Not everything.

Something.

Because you don’t have to silence every voice in the world before you can hear God.

You just have to become willing to listen for His voice again.

And sometimes, the first step back to yourself is simply remembering:

I am not who my fear says I am.

I am not who somebody else’s opinion says I am.

I am not my worst day.

I am not my mistakes.

I am not behind.

I am a person with gifts, purpose, values, experiences, strengths, weaknesses, and a story that is still being written.

And I can trust God with the next chapter.

References

American Psychological Association. (2025). Self-efficacy: The theory at the heart of human agency. American Psychological Association

Gallup. (2026). How to develop and improve your strengths. Gallup CliftonStrengths

Gallup. (2026). The relationship between strengths-based employee development and organizational outcomes. Gallup CliftonStrengths research

Han, A., & Kim, T. H. (2023). Effects of self-compassion interventions on reducing depressive symptoms, anxiety, and stress: A meta-analysis. Mindfulness, 14, 1553–1581. Article DOI

Neff, K. D. (2023). Self-compassion: Theory, method, research, and intervention. Annual Review of Psychology, 74, 193–218. Article DOI

Zessin, U., Dickhäuser, O., & Garbade, S. (2015). The relationship between self-compassion and well-being: A meta-analysis. Applied Psychology: Health and Well-Being, 7(3), 340–364. Article DOI

Your previously used training resources

Gallup. (2025). Mason-LeeAnn-ALL_34 2025 [CliftonStrengths 34 assessment report].

Scott, H. (2025). Social selling foundations workbook [Workbook].

Simone, M. (n.d.). Marina Simone knowledge base [Training resource].

Mushroom Millionaires. (n.d.). Go Bronze Fast Start workbook [Training workbook].

Mushroom Millionaires. (n.d.). Unlock the power of content creation [Training presentation].