Return to Self: How to Find Yourself Again After Years of Survival Mode
“Before Life Started Life-ing”
“A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh.”
Ezekiel 36:26 KJV
I had a dream that stayed with me long after I opened my eyes.
The dream centered around someone I know personally, but the message reached much further than them. It reached me. It may even reach you.
In the dream, I saw a softer version of them.
They laughed more. They moved with ease. They showed affection in ways I had not witnessed in a long time. There was no tension behind their eyes. No heaviness in their spirit. They were not performing happiness. They simply were.
When I woke up, I was not grieving the dream.
I was remembering.
It reminded me that life has a way of layering experiences onto us until we begin mistaking those layers for who we are.
I know that because I have lived it.
There was a time when I always had to fight.
Sometimes it was with boys.
Sometimes with girls.
Sometimes with men.
Sometimes with women.
Some battles were physical.
Many were verbal.
Little by little, survival became second nature.
I became the flame.
Ready to defend myself before anyone had the chance to hurt me.
Ready to burn bridges before someone else could set fire to mine.
The difficult part is that I never wanted to become that person.
Life happened.
Disappointment happened.
Loss happened.
Fear happened.
Responsibility happened.
Before I knew it, I had become someone who was constantly prepared for battle, even in moments that deserved peace.
I wonder how many of us are carrying versions of ourselves that were created simply because we needed to survive.
Not because that is who we truly are.
Somewhere beneath the exhaustion, the disappointments, the betrayals and the responsibilities, there is still a softer version of us waiting to be remembered.
Returning to yourself is not becoming someone new.
It is gently uncovering the person who existed before survival took over.
That does not mean pretending painful things never happened.
It means refusing to let those experiences become your permanent identity.
We can spend years blaming everyone who contributed to our wounds.
Sometimes that anger is justified. Sometimes the pain deserves to be named.
But eventually, we must ask ourselves another question:
How much longer do I want someone else’s actions to determine who I become?
When we allow pain to permanently define us, we unknowingly hand power to the very people and circumstances that wounded us.
There is also another layer of restoration that is not spoken about enough.
Forgiving ourselves.
Forgiving ourselves for the ways we adapted.
For becoming guarded.
For becoming distant.
For becoming hard when life demanded hardness.
For believing survival was the only way to remain safe.
Forgiving yourself does not mean condemning the version of you who fought to survive.
It means thanking that version of you for carrying you this far, then giving yourself permission to lay the armor down.
Perhaps restoration is not about becoming a different person.
Perhaps it is remembering who we were before life started life-ing.
Maybe the strongest thing we can do is not prepare for another battle.
Maybe it is allowing ourselves to become gentle again.
To laugh again.
To trust again.
To receive love again.
To return to ourselves.
Scripture to Carry With You
“A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh.”
Ezekiel 36:26 KJV
Life may have taught us to harden, but hardness does not have to become our permanent home.
Spirit can reach beneath the armor.
Spirit can restore what disappointment buried.
Spirit can remind us that softness is not weakness. It is evidence that life did not succeed in taking everything sacred from us.
We are still here.
And we are still able to return.
Reflection
What part of yourself have you been missing?
Not the version shaped by fear or survival.
The version that existed before the world convinced you that you always had to be ready to fight.
What would it look like to welcome that part of yourself home?
