What You Don’t Own, Will Eventually Own You
Let that sink in.
Those unaddressed feelings after someone betrays your trust? That conversation you're avoiding? The pain you're pretending doesn't exist? They don't just disappear. They transform into resentment, anxiety, and walls that keep love out.
When we refuse to face our relational wounds—especially the deep cuts of betrayal—we give them power over our present and future. But there's a different path, one that leads to freedom rather than bondage.
The Weight of Unowned Stories
We each carry stories that shape who we are and who we're becoming. Your story matters, especially the painful chapters you'd rather forget. The betrayal you've lived or are currently living—it matters because you matter.
Here's what I've learned: What you disown will eventually own you.
When we refuse to explore our story and own what we've lived, things start to come out sideways. Pain will always find its way out. We can't avoid the pain, numb out from it, and expect to heal. As Brené Brown reminds us, we "can't numb the dark without also numbing the light."
The Courage to Look
Taking ownership of your story isn't about taking blame. It's about taking responsibility for your own healing. It's saying, "Yes, this happened to me, and I'm going to face it honestly."
Many of us have been anchored in murky waters of despair, disbelief, and grief. The invitation is to pull up that anchor from confusion and denial, and move it to the clear waters of truth.
Assessing What's Been Lost
Trauma often leaves devastation in its wake. Before we can recover, we must honestly assess the damage. This isn't about wallowing—it's about getting clear on what needs healing.
Sometimes we prefer to live in avoidance—unconsciously choosing not to look. But healing requires us to catalog the specific incidents, identify patterns, and assess the impact on every area of our lives: emotional, relational, physical, spiritual.
The Safety to Own Your Story
You can't heal what you don't feel safe to examine. Safety isn't just physical—it encompasses emotional, mental, and financial security too.
What does it look like to feel safe with yourself?
Trusting that you're not crazy (your instincts matter)
Believing you can trust yourself again
Knowing you have a voice and a choice
This safety often requires boundaries—not walls, but clear guidelines about what behavior you will and won't accept. Boundaries aren't about controlling others; they're about protecting your ability to heal.
The Freedom in Ownership
Here's the beautiful paradox: When you own your pain, it loses its power to own you.
Taking time to process hurt isn't weakness—it's courage. It's saying, "This relationship, this experience, this part of my story matters enough to heal properly."
Healing requires honesty. It requires looking at both the hurt and its impact without minimizing or dramatizing. It means being willing to feel the feelings you've been avoiding.
Your Invitation Forward
So ask yourself: What pain am I carrying that I haven't truly owned? What story needs telling? What feelings have I been avoiding that are now controlling me from the shadows?
Remember, you don't need to have everything figured out right now. Begin looking at your story with:
Compassion for yourself
Curiosity rather than judgment
Patience—healing takes time
Community—you weren't meant to do this alone
The Promise
What you don't own will eventually own you. But what you face with honesty loses its power to control you.
That's where true freedom begins.
Your story—all of it, even the painful chapters—deserves to be owned, honored, and ultimately transformed. Because you matter. Your healing matters. And your freedom is worth the courage it takes to face what you've been avoiding.
