04/25/2026
There was a season where I kept telling myself I was “fine.” I stayed busy, filled my days, avoided certain conversations, avoided certain thoughts even more.
On the outside, everything looked steady. But in quiet moments; late at night, or in the middle of nothing, that feeling would creep back in. Louder. Heavier. Harder to ignore.
I thought I just needed more time. More distraction. More distance.
But it didn’t shrink.
It grew.
What started as something small—something I could easily brush off—slowly became something that colored everything. My reactions, my relationships, even the way I saw myself. And the more I tried not to feel it, the more it demanded to be felt.
I remember the first time I came across that line from Carl Jung—“What you resist not only persists, but will grow in size.” It didn’t feel profound at first. It felt… uncomfortable. Almost accusatory.
Because I knew exactly what I had been resisting.
It wasn’t random.
It wasn’t weakness.
It was resistance.
I wasn’t dealing with it, I was delaying it. And in that delay, it was expanding, taking up more space than it ever needed to.
That realization changed something.
Not instantly. Not dramatically. But enough to make me pause the next time I felt the urge to push things down again. Enough to make me sit with it, even when it was uncomfortable. Enough to start choosing awareness over avoidance, little by little.
Because it turns out, the things we refuse to face don’t disappear.
They wait.
They grow.
And eventually, they ask to be seen, whether we’re ready or not.
