Stepping Out of the Mold

Lately, I’ve been learning how to block out the noise—both internal and external—and how to finally accept myself fully. Not the version of me shaped by fear, expectations, or approval, but the version God actually created and called me to be.

To do that, I had to step out of the mold.

I had to make decisions that don’t look logical on paper. Decisions that don’t always make sense to others. But they were true to my heart. And for the first time, I chose to follow my heart instead of my head.

That inner voice—the one pointing me toward purpose—has always been there. I just didn’t trust it. I was scared. And deeper than that, I didn’t believe I was worthy of it. I didn’t believe I deserved happiness. I didn’t believe God truly wanted that for me.

But I’m learning now that God does want me to be happy—joyous and free. And once I fully buy into that, once I actually believe it, something shifts. If God wants me to be happy, then I’m allowed to want that for myself too.

The real battle was never external. It was me alone with my thoughts—my ego, my fear, that voice saying:

“Who do you think you are?”

“You’re going to mess this up.”

“You don’t deserve this.”

And for the first time, I’m answering back:

“No. That’s not the truth. That’s my ego talking. And I know God wants me happy, peaceful, and free.”

Once you get past that mental obstacle, action becomes possible. You start moving toward your ideas. Your dreams. Your calling.

And then—almost immediately—you’re met with resistance from the outside.

The bank says denied. Family says, “Why would you ever do that?” Acquaintances say, “That’s a stupid idea.” Some of them even said it to my face.

And the truth is—who knows what was said behind my back?

But an anonymous mentor once said something that changed everything for me:

“It’s none of my business, and I can’t afford it.”

Other people’s judgments, opinions, and reactions are none of my business. I have zero control over them. No matter what I do—right or wrong—people will always form their own conclusions.

It is impossible to make everyone happy. So I choose peace instead.

Because I can’t afford resentment. I can’t afford judgment. I can’t afford rumination. Those things cost me my peace—and peace is my currency.

When I start resenting, judging, or replaying conversations in my head, I’m harming myself. That’s not where God wants me. God wants me grounded. Present. Free.

So the noise—both internal and external—gets the same response now:

“None of my business. I can’t afford it.”

This is a beautiful journey. A difficult one—but an honest one. I’m grateful I’m taking the time to reflect instead of rushing past it. Writing this helps solidify what my heart already knows.

I’m not here to convince anyone. I’m here to listen, trust, and keep building on what’s good.

And that feels like home.