Strength and Soul

I don’t think I truly ever believed in Jesus.

As a child of divorced parents who had differing views on everything, religion was no different. Though my dad didn’t attend church regularly, he went often enough for me to see that it gave him a sense of connection and solace. My mother, on the other hand, was an atheist through and through. Having been forced to endure endless church services through boarding school, the day she left school was the last time she stepped into a church. God had taken up too much of her time, and he wouldn’t receive another minute.

As a result of these two vastly differing views, my beliefs were split growing up. When I stayed with my dad, I went to Sunday School to learn from the Bible about Noah’s ark and David and Goliath. But living with my mother meant absorbing her version of spirituality. She believed in fate, numerology, astrology, and a higher force she couldn’t quite explain, other than to say she thought we were all here for a reason.

I think this is where the seeds of my own spiritual beliefs began to take root. Jesus just never quite made sense to me.

Fast forward many years, later, and like many women my age, loss has become a significant part of my life, first surviving it, then learning to live with it. A big part of how I’ve navigated the last few years has been connecting with a deeper spiritual awareness. Through meditation, I’ve found much more peace and a stronger faith in the universe, in source, in spirit, in a greater guiding presence that holds me. I find comfort in believing that our lives are already written, and that all we can do is our best. It’s not about certainty. It’s about trust.

I try not to ask, “Why is this happening to me?” anymore. I’ve learned to ask, “Why is this happening for me?”, a perspective shift that helps me stay open to what life is trying to teach me, even when it's hard, painful, and uncomfortable.

I’ve come to believe we’re not here to get it perfect. We’re here to learn, remember, and, most importantly, surrender and let go. What will be, will be.

It’s also been my experience that when we see patterns repeating, the kind that keep us stuck or stagnating, it’s often because we still haven’t learned a spiritual lesson.

Recently, I found myself in a situation that tested all of this. I let someone back into my life repeatedly, even though deep down I knew they weren’t meeting me where I needed to be met. The cycle led to frustration, resentment but ultimately sadness.

But with time (and painful reflection), I realised I was craving approval, something I still, deep down, believed I needed. Life handed me this lesson until I finally understood: I needed to choose myself.

Because here’s the thing: when we stop needing someone else to say we’re worthy and start truly believing in ourselves, that’s when the shift happens. That’s where life is meant to be lived, in the knowing that you are enough and you are loved just as you are.

Growth and transformation come when we start living from our true worth.

My north star is now a spiritual one; it guides me back when I abandon myself and search outward for a certainty that doesn’t exist, instead of turning inward to reconnect with the love I’ve always had.

My spiritual strength is just as important as my physical strength. They cannot exist in isolation because we are all just spiritual beings having a human experience.