I’m Done Abandoning Myself

There comes a point where you realise that you’ve spent most of your life leaving yourself behind.

Not all at once. Not in one grand act of self-betrayal. But in tiny, quiet ways.

You said yes when you meant no. You smiled when you wanted to cry. You kept the peace, stayed agreeable, avoided the discomfort. You made yourself small, soft, palatable—because that’s what you thought was expected.

Some of us were raised to be nice, not whole. And somewhere along the line, we lost track of our own needs.

For me, it wasn’t one moment. It was years of over-functioning, of people-pleasing, of performing. I became so good at showing up for others that I forgot how to show up for myself.

I didn’t know how to say, “This doesn’t work for me.” I didn’t trust that my boundaries were valid. And honestly, I didn’t know what my own voice sounded like underneath all the shoulds.

But now—after a long, messy, beautiful unraveling—I can feel something stirring. It’s not loud. It’s not aggressive. It’s a quiet, steady decision:

I’m done abandoning myself.

This doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly figured everything out. Some days I still slip back into old patterns. I catch myself saying yes when my body says no. I still feel guilty when I rest. I still second-guess myself in rooms where I don’t feel safe.

But I return.

That’s the difference now. I come back to myself. Sooner. Softer. Without the shame.

I’m learning that self-abandonment doesn’t end with a vow or a milestone. It ends each time we choose presence over performance. Each time we check in with our body instead of pushing through. Each time we stop apologising for simply being.

If you’ve spent years living outside yourself, please know you’re not broken. You were surviving. And now you get to choose something different. You get to come home.

One small act of self-honouring at a time.

– The Sacred Embrace