Survivor Speaks Truth

Tag: Letting Go

  • Sticking it Out vs. Walking Away: The Difference Between Life’s Challenges and Toxic Relationships

    There is a common phrase often repeated in well-meaning circles: “Marriage takes work. Relationships take sacrifice. Every couple goes through hard times—you must stick it out.” While there is truth in that statement, it is not the whole truth. And in some cases, when applied to destructive or abusive relationships, it can be dangerously misleading. Not every relationship should be endured. Not every hardship is created equal. There is a profound difference between staying faithful through the storms of life and chaining yourself to a sinking ship that was never safe to board in the first place.

    All relationships face challenges. Finances get tight. Illness changes daily routines. Parenting demands test patience and energy. Jobs are lost, moves are made, and life throws unexpected storms that rattle even the most stable of unions. These are the “hard times” that every healthy couple will inevitably encounter. They are not indicators that your love is broken, but opportunities to strengthen your commitment. Weathering life’s challenges with an equally invested partner often draws people closer. These seasons reveal character, deepen intimacy, and cultivate resilience. They are hard, but they are not destructive. They are exhausting, but they are not soul-crushing.

    The difference is this: when two people are truly united, life’s storms become something they face together. It is “us against the problem,” not “me against you.” Even in frustration, there is an underlying respect. Even in disagreement, there is a foundation of safety. You can trust that your partner is not your enemy and that you are rowing in the same direction at the end of the day. Hard times can be endured—sometimes even embraced—because they strengthen the relationship.

    But not all hardship comes from the outside. Some storms brew within the walls of the relationship itself. These are not the growing pains of two flawed humans learning to love each other better. These are the destructive dynamics of control, manipulation, betrayal, or abuse. They are not external trials testing your bond—they are the bond itself being poisoned. And no amount of “sticking it out” will transform toxicity into health.

    Abuse—whether emotional, verbal, physical, or spiritual—is not a “rough patch.” Constant belittling is not a “challenge.” Walking on eggshells to avoid outbursts is not “working through issues.” Feeling unsafe, unloved, or consistently devalued is not the same as having financial stress or disagreements about parenting styles. Abuse is not a trial to be endured; it is a danger to be recognized.

    Too often, people conflate the two. Society tells victims to “try harder,” “pray more,” “sacrifice yourself,” or “be more forgiving.” Religious communities sometimes misuse Scripture, urging the abused to remain in toxic marriages under the guise of faithfulness. Friends and family, unfamiliar with the dynamics of abuse, may label a survivor’s decision to leave as “giving up.” But enduring abuse is not faithfulness—it is self-destruction. And God never asks His children to remain bound to what destroys them.

    The difference between hard and harmful is everything. Complex challenges come from outside pressures—money, sickness, transitions—that can be weathered when love and respect remain intact. On the other hand, harmful patterns come from within—the way you are treated, the cycles of control, the erosion of self-worth. Hard asks you to persevere because there is mutual love at the core. Harmful asks you to surrender your dignity and safety in exchange for crumbs of peace.

    One of the most significant lies victims are told is that leaving is a failure. But walking away from what is destroying you is not giving up—it is choosing life. It is choosing to believe that your worth is not measured by how much pain you can endure, but by the truth that you are created to be loved in a way that reflects kindness, safety, and mutual respect. True love uplifts. True love protects. True love does not demand you lose yourself to preserve the illusion of togetherness.

    There is courage in staying through life’s storms when both people row the boat. But there is also courage—often far greater—in stepping out of a sinking ship because one person has been drilling holes all along.

    If you ask yourself whether to stay or go, the questions that matter most are “Am I strong enough to endure this?” but rather, “Is this hardship external or is it coming from how I’m being treated? Am I safe? Am I respected? Does this relationship allow me to grow into the fullness of who I am, or does it strip away my peace and worth?”

    The answers may not be easy, but they are essential. The truth is this: You deserve to be in a relationship where the storms of life are weathered side by side—not in one where you are drowning while the other person watches from the shore.

    Love was never meant to hurt to prove its worth. Sticking it out is noble when the relationship is built on love, respect, and a shared vision of the future. Walking away is necessary when the relationship itself is causing the destruction.

    Your life is too valuable, your soul too precious, and your future too meaningful to waste it surviving in the name of “sacrifice.” Choose wisely. Choose courageously. And remember—enduring hard times makes love stronger, but escaping toxic ones may save your life.

  • Saying Goodbye to People-Pleasing

    There comes a point in your healing when you realize that the cost of pleasing everyone is far too high. That peace isn’t found in avoiding conflict, but in standing firm in truth. That love doesn’t require you to lose yourself in the process of trying to be enough for others.

    For years, I thought being agreeable was the same as being kind. I thought keeping the peace meant staying silent when something hurt. I believed that saying “yes” meant I was being a good person. But over time, people-pleasing didn’t feel like love—it felt like self-betrayal. And the more I bent myself to fit others’ expectations, the more I lost sight of who I really was.

    People pleasing is subtle. It wears the mask of humility, but it’s rooted in fear—fear of rejection, fear of abandonment, fear of not being liked. It convinces you that your worth is tied to how useful, agreeable, or available you are to others. It whispers lies that say you are only lovable when you are easy, quiet, and convenient.

    But healing demands honesty. It demands boundaries. It calls you to stop shrinking and start showing up fully—messy, honest, and whole.

    Saying goodbye to people pleasing doesn’t mean becoming hard-hearted or unkind. It means no longer allowing other people’s opinions to define your worth. It means telling the truth even when your voice shakes. It means honoring your yes and your no without guilt or explanation.

    It means finally understanding that love is not something you have to earn.

    The truth is, you cannot please everyone—and you were never meant to. You were not created to be everything for everyone. You were created to walk in truth, love, and freedom. And sometimes, that means disappointing people who only loved you when you were convenient.

    So I’m saying goodbye—to over-explaining, to over-apologizing, to saying yes when I mean no, to keeping the peace at the expense of my soul.

    I’m choosing peace over performance. Purpose over perfection. Truth over approval.

    And maybe, just maybe, by saying goodbye to people pleasing, I’m finally saying hello to me.

  • Letting Go of Guilt and Shame—They Were Never Yours to Carry

    Guilt and shame.

    Two of the heaviest burdens a survivor can carry were never ours to hold.

    They creep in silently after the storm. They often strike when the chaos has quieted, and you finally catch your breath. Maybe you think, “I should have left sooner. I should have known better. I should have seen the signs.” Or perhaps the whispers come from others who don’t know your story but feel entitled to judge it. People who don’t understand the tangled web of manipulation, fear, trauma bonds, and survival instincts.

    But here’s the truth: You are not to blame for someone else’s choice to abuse.

    You didn’t cause it, you didn’t deserve it, and you certainly don’t have to carry the weight of it.

    Guilt is a normal human emotion when we’ve done something wrong. But what happens when you feel guilty for simply surviving? For protecting yourself? For making choices, others can’t or won’t understand? That’s not guilt rooted in truth. That’s manipulation. That’s shame being handed to you by someone who doesn’t want to own their part.

    And shame? Shame is different. Shame says, “You are the problem.” But you are not. The abuse is the problem. The abuser is the problem. Shame belongs to the one who inflicted harm, not the one who endured it.

    You were lied to. You were broken. You were made to believe that their chaos was your fault. That you were too much. Or not enough. It would stop if you just loved harder, prayed longer, and forgave faster. But abuse is not a misunderstanding. It’s not a communication problem. It’s not a mutual failing. It’s a choice made by one person to exert power and control over another.

    And that choice was never yours.

    Letting go of guilt and shame isn’t about pretending the past didn’t happen. It’s about acknowledging what did and releasing the parts that don’t belong to you. It’s looking at your story and saying: “This happened to me, but it is not who I am.”It’s waking up and declaring: “I am not what they said I was.”It’s learning to speak kindly to yourself and show compassion to the version of you who stayed, fought, and tried so hard to hold it all together.

    You survived something that tried to destroy you. You kept going when you had every reason to give up. You’re here. And that matters.

    God never asked you to carry the guilt of another person’s sin. He offers to take every weight you were never meant to hold.”Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

    That’s not just for your exhaustion. That’s for the fear, guilt, shame, and the questions that haunt you.

    Letting go is a process. Some days, it will feel easier than others. But every day you choose to release what was never yours—every time you reject the shame wrongfully assigned to you—you are stepping into freedom.

    You don’t need to apologize for surviving. You don’t need to explain why you stayed. You don’t owe anyone an account of your healing.

    The only thing you owe yourself is permission to heal, to rest, to live without the crushing weight of guilt and shame that were never yours to carry in the first place.

    Let it go.

    It was never yours. It belonged to them all along.

    And now, it’s time to give it back.

    If this resonated with you, know that you’re not alone. Healing takes time, but every step forward is sacred. Keep going.