Survivor Speaks Truth

Tag: Paradigm Shift

  • 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.

  • Speaking the Truth Doesn’t Make You Unkind

    Somewhere along the way, we were taught that silence is noble, that politeness is more important than honesty, and that if we speak brutal truth, we must be bitter, unloving, or unforgiving. But let’s be clear about something: Telling the truth is not unkind.

    Truth is not cruelty. Truth is not revenge. Truth is not gossip.

    Truth is clarity. Truth is light. Truth is love in action.

    Speaking the truth often gets mislabeled in a world that values appearances and comfort over honesty. Some will say you’re being dramatic when you name the harm done to you. When you set boundaries, they’ll call you difficult. When you tell your story, they’ll accuse you of spreading hate. But don’t be fooled—silencing the truth does more harm than speaking it ever could.

    Jesus Himself is the embodiment of truth, and He never once sugarcoated it. He spoke directly, called out hypocrisy, and told stories that confronted sin and injustice. He didn’t soften the truth to avoid offending people. But He also didn’t wield truth as a weapon to destroy. He spoke it to set people free.

    There is a difference between telling the truth and telling it with the intent to harm, between exposing evil and wishing evil on someone, and between healing through your voice and using your voice to hurt.

    But truth, in and of itself, is not unkind. It’s the very thing that saves lives.

    For too long, survivors have been told to stay silent “for the sake of peace.” But peace built on silence is not peace—it’s denial. It’s the protection of an image instead of the protection of the person who was harmed. You’re not being unkind when you tell the truth about your experience. You’re being courageous. You’re creating space for healing. You’re refusing to let lies have the final word.

    And yes—the truth may make some people uncomfortable. But that doesn’t make you unkind. It makes them unready to face what they’ve ignored, enabled or contributed to.

    Don’t confuse discomfort with cruelty, confrontation with a lack of love, or clarity with character assassination.

    You can speak with grace and still communicate with strength. You can tell your story without bitterness. You can name what happened and pray for healing—for yourself and others.

    Being a peacemaker doesn’t mean keeping everyone comfortable. It means standing for what is right. It means walking in the light, even when it’s easier to blend into the dark.

    So don’t let anyone make you feel ashamed for speaking up. Don’t let twisted definitions of “kindness” silence your truth.

    Kindness is not passivity. Kindness is not self-erasure. Kindness is not complicity.

    Kindness and truth can—and must—coexist. When they do, they have the power to bring real, lasting healing.

    Speak the truth even if your voice shakes, even if others don’t understand, even if it costs you something.

    Because truth isn’t the enemy of kindness; truth is the beginning of freedom.