Reflection: What Am I Afraid to Become and Why I’m Doing It Anyway

I’m afraid to become someone who no longer recognizes herself in pain.

That sounds backwards—but it’s true. Pain has been my compass for so long that part of me doesn’t trust life without it. I know how to survive chaos. I know how to endure heartbreak. I know how to function while bleeding. But peace? Peace feels like foreign land. I’m afraid that if I finally arrive there, I won’t know who I am. I fear being without the wounds to introduce me.

I’m afraid to become soft and be disappointed again. Afraid that lowering my guard will invite harm back in. Afraid that if I stop anticipating the worst, the worst will catch me off guard. There’s a voice in me that says, Stay alert. Stay tense. Stay ready. It thinks it’s protecting me. I thank it—but I don’t let it drive anymore.

I’m afraid to become visible. Not just seen—but known. Because being known means being loved without the armor. And that intimacy requires trust. Trust that I won’t be abandoned once the real me shows up. Trust that I won’t be punished for taking up space. Trust that I don’t have to show strength to be worthy of staying.

I’m afraid to become a woman who sets boundaries without guilt. Who says no and doesn’t explain. Who chooses herself and doesn’t apologize. Because somewhere along the way, I learned that choosing myself meant losing people. And that fear still lives in my bones.

I’m afraid to become healed and still misunderstood. Afraid that people will reduce my past once I stop showing the scars. Afraid that they’ll say, “See? You’re fine now.”

As if survival erases what it cost. And yet— I’m doing it anyway. I’m becoming her anyway. Because staying the same costs me more than changing ever could. Because my children deserve a mother who isn’t ruled by fear. Because my soul is tired of mistaking tension for safety. Because God keeps calling me forward—not loudly, not forcefully—but steadily. Patiently. Lovingly.

I’m doing it because I refuse to let fear have the final word over my future. Because healing isn’t betrayal—it’s obedience to the life I was always meant to live. Because courage isn’t the absence of fear; it’s walking straight through it with shaking hands and an open heart.

I am afraid of who I’m becoming…

But I’m more afraid of who I’ll be if I don’t. So I step ahead. Even scared. Even unsure. Even unfinished. And somehow, that’s enough.

✨Closing Prayer

God,

I am afraid—and I’m still walking forward.

I’m scared of peace, scared of softness, scared of a life that doesn’t require armor. But I hear You calling me out of hiding, and I don’t want fear to be louder than faith anymore. If I tremble, steady me. If I hesitate, remind me why I started. If I doubt my courage, show me how far I’ve already come. Teach me that bravery doesn’t mean I’m not afraid—it means I trust You more than I trust my fear. I give You my becoming. Even the parts I don’t understand yet. Lead me gently—but lead me forward.

Amen.

XOXO, THE HEALING WILDFLOWER 🌻