There Was Never Anything Wrong With Me

I’m sitting with a quiet, powerful truth today:

Maybe… there never was anything wrong with me.

It’s something I’ve returned to many times. A whisper I’ve heard in therapy, in reflection, in the softness of moments when I’m not trying to prove anything.
But today, I’m consciously letting it land. Not fully believing it — not yet — but letting it sink in just a little deeper.

Because the part of me that doubts this?
That’s the same part that had to believe something was wrong in order to survive a childhood where love felt conditional.

But what if I’m just as human as everyone else?
Just as lovable?
What if it’s actually audacious to believe I’m somehow less worthy of love than another human being?

We are all worthy of love.

The story we tell ourselves — about worth, about lovability, about what we must do to earn connection — that story shapes everything.
It determines whether we let love in.
Whether we seek understanding from a place of fear or from a place of reverence.
It shapes our habits, our relationships, and the way we walk through the world.

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And it’s got me wondering about my own patterns of self-improvement.
Of emotional excavation.
Of relentless introspection.

Am I doing this out of love?
Or out of fear?

If it’s fear — fear of not being good enough, fear of being too much, fear of being unlovable — then I need to be honest with myself.
That kind of striving becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
It says: you are only worthy if you change.

But if I’m doing this out of love — the kind that wants to unfold me naturally, gently, like a flower in sunlight — then that’s different.
That’s truth.

That’s not fixing. That’s becoming.

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So I keep coming back to this question:

Where is this behaviour coming from — love or fear?

And more importantly:

What would it look like to live like I was never broken?

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🎥 A Reflection That Resonates

Here’s a short video I’ve been sitting with. It speaks to this same realization — that we’re not here to fix ourselves, but to remember ourselves.