Reflect: What would it feel like to be emotionally clean?

Day 17: Psalm 103: God removing our guilt “as far as the east is from the west.”

There was a time in my life when I thought healing meant not feeling anymore. I thought being “okay” looked like numbness—like silence where the pain used to scream. But numb isn’t clean. It’s just quiet decay.

Emotionally clean doesn’t mean untouched. It means unburdened.

Emotionally clean would feel like waking up without yesterday clinging to my skin. Like shame doesn’t trail behind me into every room I walk into. Like my past finally loosens its grip on my throat and lets me breathe without effort. It would feel like nothing festering inside me anymore.

For so long, I carried emotions in a heavy, concealed manner. They were like dirty laundry when you lack the energy to wash it. I stuffed emotions into corners and shoved them behind closed doors, pretending the smell wasn’t there. Grief I never spoke. Anger I swallowed. Blame I turned inward until it carved itself into my identity. I told myself I was fine, but my body knew better. My spirit knew better.

Emotionally clean would feel like emotions moving through me instead of settling in my bones. It would feel like crying without shame. Like being sad without spiraling into self-hatred. Like feeling anger without becoming it. It would feel like honesty—especially the kind that starts with myself. The kind where I stop gas-lighting my own pain just to survive another day.

Emotionally clean would feel lighter in my body. My shoulders wouldn’t be braced for impact. My jaw wouldn’t ache from clenching. My stomach wouldn’t stay knotted like it’s waiting for bad news that already came years ago.

I imagine breathing deep and realizing… oh. This is what safety feels like. It would feel like forgiveness. It’s not the kind that excuses what hurt me. Rather, it is the kind that releases me from carrying it. Forgiving the people who failed me. Forgiving the version of myself who didn’t know how to speak up yet. Forgiving the girl who thought everything was her fault because nobody taught her otherwise.

Emotionally clean would feel like boundaries without guilt. Like choosing peace without apologizing for it. Like understanding that protecting my heart isn’t selfish—it’s stewardship. It would feel like joy without suspicion. Like laughter that doesn’t come with the fear of losing it. Like happiness that doesn’t quickly brace for collapse. Like allowing good things to exist without waiting for punishment.

Emotionally clean would feel like trust. Not in the world—but in myself. Trust that I can feel deeply and not drown. Trust that when pain comes, I know where to take it now. Trust that I don’t have to abandon myself to survive. And maybe emotional cleanliness isn’t something I reach and stay at forever.

Maybe it’s a daily washing.

A daily choosing to tell the truth instead of bury it. A daily choosing to feel instead of rot. A daily choosing to lay my heaviness at God’s feet instead of letting it harden inside me. If emotional dirt is unspoken pain, buried shame, and self-blame… Then emotional cleanliness is truth, release, grace—and beginning again.

I’m learning that healing doesn’t make me spotless. It makes me honest. And honesty is the cleanest thing I’ve ever worn. You should try it🖤

🙏 Closing Prayer

God,

Teach me how to come to You with my mess instead of hiding it. Show me what needs to be released, washed, and laid down. Help me stop confusing numbness with peace and silence with healing. Clean my heart—not by erasing my story, but by removing the shame that’s grown around it. Help me forgive what still hurts, and forgive myself for surviving the only way I knew how. Let my emotions move through me without poisoning me. Let truth replace self-blame. Let grace replace fear. And let each day be a gentle washing, where I don’t have to be perfect—just honest.
In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

XOXO, The Healing Wildflower 🌻