You Were Never Broken
I spent a lot of my life believing something in me needed fixing. That I didn’t fit, didn’t measure up, didn’t belong.
I didn’t grow up feeling like I fit in with other boys, and somewhere along the way, that turned into a belief that something in me was broken.
This is a story about survival, identity, faith, and what it takes to finally understand that I was always enough.
The Culture of Shame
Shame doesn’t always shout. Sometimes it whispers. It lives in raised eyebrows, quiet speculation, and the stories we tell ourselves about other people’s lives.
And if I’m honest, we don’t always judge to be cruel — sometimes we judge to feel safe. If we can locate the flaw in someone else’s story, we convince ourselves their ending won’t be ours. That’s how shame culture survives.
Faith Without the Fix
For a long time, I thought faith meant clarity. Or peace. Or at least relief. I thought if I believed hard enough, trusted deeply enough, or prayed the right way, something would shift—my body, my circumstances, my joy. And when those things didn’t change, I quietly wondered what that said about me.
But lately, I’ve been realizing that faith isn’t always revealed through resolution. Sometimes it’s revealed through endurance. Through staying present when the situation doesn’t improve. Through choosing honesty over performance. Through continuing to believe even when life doesn’t feel good.