My Brain Was Still Living in a Life I Had Already Left
When your conscious mind knows you are supported, but something deeper is still waiting to be abandoned.
I had an epiphany today.
And maybe I have the solar eclipse and new moon to thank for illuminating something I couldn’t quite see before.
This brain journey has been a struggle.
But damn, has it been interesting.
The more I learn about the brain, subconscious programming, core memories, the nervous system, and the way our experiences can continue influencing us long after the moment itself has passed, the more pieces of my own life begin falling into place.
And today, one of the biggest pieces landed.
For years, I have been living a life where I am supported while part of my brain has continued operating from the belief that I am not.
Read that again.
Because I had to.
I Know I’m Supported
Consciously, I know this.
I can look around my life and see the evidence.
The right people have come into my life.
People have shown up.
People have stayed.
People have encouraged me, helped me, loved me, believed in me, worked beside me, and supported the dreams I have been building.
The support I once desired is here.
My conscious mind sees it.
My heart feels it.
My life reflects it.
And yet somewhere underneath all of that, another program has apparently continued running:
You’re on your own.
You have to figure it out yourself.
Don’t expect anyone to catch you.
You have to make it work.
You have to hold everything together.
And suddenly, so much makes sense.
The Old Program Was Still Running
I’ve spent a lot of time talking about chasing.
Chasing money.
Chasing clients.
Chasing the next opportunity.
Trying to make everything work.
Trying to stay ahead.
Trying to make sure there was always enough.
And I’ve done so much work around receiving.
But what if part of the reason receiving has felt so foreign wasn’t because I didn’t want to receive?
What if some deeper part of me didn’t believe anyone—or anything—was coming to help?
If somewhere inside me the program was still:
There is no support coming. You have to do this yourself.
Of course I chased.
Of course I pushed.
Of course I tried to solve everything.
Of course slowing down sometimes felt uncomfortable.
That version of me wasn’t failing at receiving.
She was operating according to the information she had been given.
And some of that information may have been decades old.
Twenty Years Is a Long Time to Run an Old Program
When I look back, I can see this pattern running for at least ten years.
Probably closer to twenty.
And there’s part of me that thinks:
Seriously? If I would have known this then, we could have saved ourselves a whole lot of hardship.
But I also know something else.
I wasn’t ready to heal this then.
Not because I wasn’t strong enough.
Not because I wasn’t trying hard enough.
But because healing has its own timing.
I needed the journey.
I needed the experiences.
I needed to meet the people I’ve met.
I needed to learn what I’ve learned.
I needed to build a life where support wasn’t just something someone told me existed.
I needed to experience it.
Maybe my conscious mind had to collect enough evidence that when we finally reached this old belief, I could look at it and say:
You don’t have to believe that anymore.
The Past Was Real. But It Isn’t Now.
This may be one of the greatest lessons of my Broken to Blessed journey.
Healing isn’t always about convincing ourselves that the past didn’t happen.
It did.
There were moments when I didn’t feel supported.
There were experiences that taught me to rely on myself.
There were reasons my mind and body learned to operate the way they did.
Those responses served a purpose.
But a survival strategy can become a prison when we continue living by it after our circumstances have changed.
And maybe healing is the moment we finally recognize:
That was then.
This is now.
I don’t have to erase the woman who learned to do everything herself.
I can thank her.
She got me here.
But she doesn’t have to run the entire operation anymore.
My Life Has Changed. Now My Inner World Can Catch Up.
This might be the most beautiful part.
I don’t need to go searching for proof that I’m supported.
It’s already here.
Now I get to allow the deeper parts of me to recognize it too.
I am supported.
I can ask for help.
I can receive.
I can rest without everything falling apart.
I don’t have to chase every opportunity.
I don’t have to hold everything together by myself.
I don’t have to prepare for abandonment when people are showing me presence.
I don’t have to keep living according to an old story simply because my brain became very good at telling it.
The story changed.
Maybe now the programming gets to change too.
Remembering Me
There is something strangely beautiful about realizing that healing isn’t always becoming someone new.
Sometimes it is finally allowing yourself to live as the person you’ve already become.
My outer world changed.
My relationships changed.
My support system changed.
I changed.
But part of my inner world was still living ten or twenty years behind me.
And today, I can see her.
I understand why she did what she did.
I understand why she kept pushing.
I understand why she chased.
I understand why receiving felt difficult.
She thought she was alone.
But she’s not anymore.
I’m not anymore.
Maybe this chapter of healing isn’t about working harder to create a different life.
Maybe it’s about finally letting my brain, body, and subconscious experience the life that’s already here.
A life where I am loved.
A life where I am supported.
A life where I don’t have to do everything alone.
A life where receiving is safe.
And perhaps that is another piece of becoming Broken to Blessed.
Not fixing the woman I used to be.
Not judging the brain that learned to protect her.
But gently showing every part of me:
Look around.
We made it.
Things are different now.
You can live here.