WHAT IF YOUR PAIN BECAME PART OF WHO YOU ARE?
She was a widow.
Two years had passed since she lost her husband. Slowly, she had found her way back into a normal routine. She had people around her who loved and supported her. Life had started to feel manageable again.
Romance wasn't even on her mind.
In her mind, love had ended when her husband died.
Then she met someone.
He had experienced a similar loss. He understood things other people couldn't. He started getting closer to her, and she liked him.
And that's where something unexpected happened.
Because if she allowed herself to fall in love again, something inside her would have to change.
For two years, she had been the woman who lost her husband.
The woman who survived something devastating.
The woman everyone protected, supported and felt sorry for.
Her grief had become part of her identity.
So what happens when the woman who has been grieving suddenly has something beautiful to look forward to?
Who is she then?
She couldn't answer that.
So she stayed attached to the story she already knew.
The relationship didn't happen.
He eventually walked away.
And strangely enough, his leaving gave her something familiar again.
Pain.
Proof that she was right to stay where she was.
Proof that love really wasn't for her anymore.
Her victim identity had been reinforced.
And this is where we need to be careful with the word victim.
Being a victim of something terrible is real.
Making the pain your permanent identity is something different.
You can honour what happened to you without making what happened to you the definition of who you are.
Sometimes the hardest part of healing isn't releasing the pain.
It's releasing the version of yourself that was built around the pain.
Because when you have spent years being the abandoned one, the betrayed one, the widow, the unlucky one, the one who always gets hurt...
who are you when life finally gives you something good?
This is where Neville Goddard's work becomes uncomfortable.
Your assumptions about yourself keep recreating the identity you experience life from.
If somewhere inside you, you're still saying:
"This is just who I am."
Your life will keep giving that identity somewhere to live.
So ask yourself today:
What story am I still protecting because I don't know who I'd be without it?
And perhaps the real question isn't:
"How do I let go of my past?"
Perhaps it's:
"Who would I have to become if I finally stopped using my past to explain my future?"
How many times have you stayed in an old identity simply because the new version of you felt unfamiliar?