The Woman I'm Becoming Had to Let Go of the Woman I Was

There comes a point in your becoming when you have to make peace with the fact that you cannot take every version of yourself into your next season.

And I am there.

I have spent a lot of time reflecting on the woman I used to be. The choices she made. The things she tolerated. The way she thought. The things she didn't know. The things she knew but wasn't strong enough to confront yet. The ways she responded out of hurt, fear, insecurity, survival, and sometimes simply immaturity.

And I want to make something clear.

I am not ashamed of her.

She was a part of my journey.

She did the best she could with what she knew at the time. She survived things that taught me how to fight. She made mistakes that eventually became wisdom. She cried tears that watered the ground I am standing on today. She walked through seasons that gave me the compassion I now have for other women.

So no, I don't hate her.

I don't hide her.

And I won't pretend she never existed.

But at this point in my life, who I was no longer serves who I am or where I am going.

And there is a difference between honoring who you were and continuing to live as her.

Some of us are asking God for a new season while holding tightly to an old version of ourselves.

We want new relationships with old mindsets.

New opportunities with old habits.

New levels with old insecurities.

New assignments with old excuses.

New freedom while still carrying old bondage.

But there are some places God is taking you where the old version of you simply cannot go.

Not because she was worthless.

Not because she was a failure.

But because she served her purpose.

There were things I needed in one season that I don't need anymore.

There were walls I built to protect myself that eventually became walls God had to help me tear down.

There were ways I learned to survive that were necessary for a season, but survival cannot be my permanent address.

There were attitudes I once called strength that I now recognize were defense mechanisms.

There were things I accepted because I didn't know my worth.

There were things I did because I needed validation.

There were battles I fought that the woman I'm becoming wouldn't even entertain.

That's growth.

And growth will make you look back at yourself differently.

Not with shame, but with understanding.

Not with condemnation, but with gratitude.

Not with regret, but with revelation.

Because when God begins transforming you, you start realizing that some things weren't necessarily bad. They were simply no longer beneficial.

First Corinthians 13:11 says, “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.”

There it is.

When I became, I put away.

Becoming requires letting go.

Sometimes it's letting go of people.

Sometimes it's letting go of places.

Sometimes it's letting go of habits.

Sometimes it's letting go of expectations.

And sometimes the hardest person you will ever have to let go of is the person you used to be.

Because she's familiar.

You know how she thinks.

You know how she responds.

You know how she protects herself.

You know how she handles disappointment.

You know what she does when she's afraid.

And even when those behaviors are unhealthy, familiar can feel safe.

But God didn't call me to stay familiar.

He called me to be transformed.

Romans 12:2 says, “Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

That means I cannot keep thinking the same way and expect to become a different woman.

Something has to change.

And sometimes that something is me.

I had to stop saying, “That's just who I am.”

No.

That's who I was.

Maybe I used to shut down when I was hurt.

Maybe I used to react before I prayed.

Maybe I used to need everybody to understand me.

Maybe I used to say yes because I was afraid of disappointing people.

Maybe I used to stay where God was telling me to leave.

Maybe I used to shrink myself to make other people comfortable.

Maybe I used to allow my past to determine what I believed I deserved.

But if God is transforming me, I cannot keep using my past behavior as permission to resist my future.

The woman I'm becoming requires something different from me.

She requires discipline.

She requires boundaries.

She requires accountability.

She requires wisdom.

She requires obedience.

She requires healing.

She requires me to know when to speak and when to be quiet.

She requires me to stop proving and start becoming.

And yes, there are days when the old me tries to show back up.

There are moments when something triggers a familiar response and I can feel her rising.

But now I have a choice.

I can respond from who I was, or I can respond from who I'm becoming.

That is what growth looks like.

It isn't pretending your old self disappeared.

It's recognizing when she shows up and deciding she doesn't get to lead anymore.

I will never forget her.

In fact, I will always reference her when I'm trying to help somebody else.

When I meet a woman struggling with something I have overcome, I will remember her.

When I meet a woman who doesn't know her worth yet, I will remember her.

When I meet a woman who keeps making the same mistake, I will remember her.

When I meet a woman who knows God has called her but is afraid to move, I will remember her.

When I meet a woman who is trying to heal while still holding everything together, I will remember her.

Because remembering who I was keeps me compassionate toward women who are still becoming.

My past isn't something I have to erase.

It's something God can use.

Revelation 12:11 tells us that we overcome by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of our testimony.

There are parts of my story that I once wished I could rewrite.

Now I understand that God can use those very chapters to help another woman survive hers.

So I won't be ashamed of who I was.

I'll tell her story.

I'll talk about her mistakes.

I'll talk about what she tolerated.

I'll talk about what she learned.

I'll talk about what God delivered her from.

I'll talk about how many times she had to start over.

I'll talk about her because somebody else needs to know that where she is today does not have to be where she stays.

But while I will always remember the woman I was, I refuse to become her again just because she is familiar.

I've come too far.

I've learned too much.

I've healed too much.

God has shown me too much.

There is more ahead of me, and I need the woman I'm becoming for where I'm going.

So I honor who I was.

I thank God for what she survived.

I forgive her for what she didn't know.

I give her grace for the mistakes she made.

I take the lessons with me.

I take the wisdom with me.

I take the testimony with me.

But I leave the old version of me behind.

Because she was part of my journey.

She helped me get here.

Her story will help me reach other women.

But she cannot lead me where God is taking me next.

And I'm okay with that.

Because I'm not losing myself.

I'm becoming her By any means necessary!