I grew up hearing that I was too much, that no one would ever love me, that no one could handle me because I was “difficult.” In my household, love wasn’t spoken out loud. Affection wasn’t given. You were supposed to know it without it being said. Discipline and harsh, sometimes violent, was simply “what was done back then.” That became my blueprint for life, whether I realized it at the time or not.
Even now, approaching my forties, I still carry the residue of that pain. Every day, I wrestle with the echoes of those messages: Am I good enough? Pretty enough? Strong enough? Independent though I became in my twenties, forging my own path, creating my own world and opportunities, the old voices still linger. They haunt me in quiet moments and surface unexpectedly, reminding me of the conditioning that shaped me.
Being a mother has brought those memories into sharper focus. I can’t imagine ever treating my child the way I was treated. I want love to be spoken, safety to be given, and kindness to be freely offered, not assumed, enforced, or conditional. I am fiercely determined to protect my child from the same cycles, but I also carry the reality of what it means to break patterns that have been ingrained for generations.
Even now, the damage remains. The demons I thought I had faced return in quiet moments. Accepting love from my husband, someone who is patient, kind, and unwavering, still feels complicated. There’s always a part of me holding back, keeping love at arm’s length. The conditioning that taught me to consider vulnerability a weakness is stubborn, and learning to let go of it is a daily battle. I am learning to accept help, to accept care, to trust that needing someone doesn’t make me weak. It’s a process, one step at a time, and some days it feels heavier than others.
Writing this blog is part of that process. Sharing these truths is part of reclaiming my story, facing the past while building a new path forward. It’s about acknowledging pain, naming it, and refusing to let it define me, or my child. I want to break the cycle. I want to shine light on the shadows so that someone else reading this might feel less alone in theirs.
This is the journey I’m inviting you to join me on: the fight to heal, to accept love, to confront the demons, and to create a life filled with compassion, honesty, and connection. It’s not easy. It’s raw. It’s messy. But it’s real- and for me, that’s worth every step.
I don’t have all the answers, and I won’t pretend that healing is in a straight forward direction. Some days are harder than others, and some moments feel like progress takes one step forward and two steps back. But in sharing this, I hope to create a space where honesty matters more than perfection. Whether you read this and recognize pieces of your own story, or simply pause to witness mine, know that your presence here is valued. This is a place to sit with the truth, to reflect, and to remember that even in our struggles, there is room for connection, growth, and hope.
-B. Honest
Actually, I'm not fine... blog 