What I'm Unlearning

I’ve discovered that sometimes, the holiest work is subtraction.

Hey Girl,

I used to think growth meant adding more knowledge, more wisdom, more faith, more “right” ways of doing things. But lately, I’ve discovered that sometimes, the holiest work is subtraction. I’m unlearning the reflex to apologise for taking up space. I’m unlearning the belief that my worth is tied to how much I produce or how many people approve of me. I’m unlearning the habit of dimming my light so others feel more comfortable.

It’s strange how long we can carry beliefs that were never ours to begin with, seeds planted by other people’s fear, disappointment, or control. I’ve carried some for years, but the thing about carrying what doesn’t belong to you is that it eventually wears you down.

God, in His quiet mercy, has been showing me that shedding is sacred. He whispers that I am loved, even when I’m not performing. He reminds me that shame is not my inheritance, that it was nailed to the cross long before I learned to hide my heart.

So, I am practising the art of release and saying: “This belief does not serve me.” “This shame is not my story.” “This pattern is not who I am.” I won’t pretend it’s easy. Unlearning feels like peeling layers off skin, raw and tender. But beneath it, I can feel the soft pulse of freedom.

If you’re reading this and you are tired of carrying what’s not yours, maybe it’s time. Time to let it fall. Time to stand a little taller without the weight. Time to believe that God is big enough to hold you without all the false armour you’ve built.

Cheers to subtraction.

Cheers to making room for the truth to grow.

With love,
Your number fan.