Raspberry Iced M

When I made a commitment to become someone I could tolerate, I sincerely thought the changes I would make would be dramatic.

Huge breakthroughs. Personality makeover.

As if something would click in my brain and I’d think, “Yep, never doing that bad habit again for the rest of my life…”

But the biggest changes in me over the last six months (since we are officially halfway through 2026) have been subtle. I’ve noticed them in ordinary conversations. Ordinary Tuesdays. Ordinary decisions.

Subtle growth is easy to overlook. So I take time, now, to acknowledge it – not because I am finished – but because six months ago, I was so broken and ashamed and torn in two that none of these things were true of me.

Today, they are.

1. I don’t chase like I used to. There was a time when rejection sent me running. Toward explanations, reassurance, solutions, proof. Toward being chosen. Now? I am allowing doors to stay closed. People can’t be convinced. Relationships can’t be repaired by one-sided effort alone. And that doesn’t mean I don’t care. It means I have stopped believing that my value depends on someone else’s decision to stay. I hate being rejected. Abandoned. Excluded. But running exhausts me. And it rarely got me what I wanted.
2. I have stopped trying to control other people’s opinions. This one is still a work in progress, but I have made strides. I used to spend so much of my energy wondering if people understood me, if they noticed I’d changed, if I should explain myself one more time. Now, there is one question on my mind: Am I living with integrity? Because that is the only part I can control.
3. I pause more than I react. I used to confuse every emotion with an emergency. Now I breathe. I pray. I sleep on it. I journal. A lot of regret I am still processing from my past exists because I acted on emotion and not in alignment with my core values. And today, I might feel something and cry or get angry or be disappointed. But I don’t make decisions with the sole purpose of relieving those emotions.
4. I live life in the delightfully ordinary. Old Me would be terrified to learn that I have a routine now. Predictability. Quiet evenings. Laundry. Work. Dinner. Prayer. Writing, reading, and repeating. Old Me thought that was really boring. The woman I am becoming thinks its peaceful. Stability is not the absence of life. Sometimes it is evidence that healing is taking root.
5. I take responsibility for my inner world. My emotions. My triggers. My healing. My productivity. Those belong to me. Other people can certainly hurt me. But they cannot do my emotional work for me. And that responsibility used to feel so heavy that I shirked it every chance I could. But knowing what I can control – myself – is true freedom.
6. I am becoming someone I respect. Not because I am perfect. I’m far from that. I still have fears. I still overthink. I still get hurt. And I still make mistakes. But when I look in the mirror each morning, I see someone who is trying. Someone telling the truth. Someone keeping her promises more often. Someone consistently choosing her faith/values over temporary relief. Someone who’s stayed. And that’s a woman I can respect.

Growth doesn’t always feel like growth. Sometimes it feels like saying no. Keeping quiet. Sometimes it looks like folding laundry instead of collapsing on my bedroom floor in a pile of depression. Sometimes it’s going to therapy. Reading my Bible. Paying my bills. Keeping my word.

None of those make dramatic stories. None of those come with awards.

But if you’d asked me six months ago where I’d be today, I probably would’ve listed external goals. Relationships repaired, problems solved, circumstances changed.

And instead, God is changing me…one ordinary day at a time.

And that’s the miracle I almost missed. My life hasn’t become perfect. But in the middle of an imperfect life, I am finding more peace. And perhaps that’s all the last six months needed to do.