I Don't Want You to Believe in Me — I Want You to Believe in You

There was a time when exercise was simply something I was doing to survive what I was feeling.

I was carrying pain, sadness, anger, fear, guilt, shame, and confusion. Some days I understood what I was feeling. Other days, I didn't.

I just knew I needed somewhere for all of it to go.

So I walked.

I exercised.

I kept moving.

Somewhere along the way, movement became more than something I did for my body. It became a place where I could release emotions I didn't always have the words to explain.

At one point in my life, I weighed 267 pounds. Today, I weigh around 150.

I could show you those two numbers and call that my transformation, but that wouldn't tell you the whole story.
The biggest change wasn't on the scale.

It was everything that happened between those numbers—the days I walked because I was angry, the days I exercised because I needed somewhere for my pain to go, the days I didn't feel strong but kept moving anyway, and eventually, the days I began doing it because I realized I was worth taking care of.

The weight changed along the way. But so did the way I saw myself.

I want them to discover what taking care of themselves looks like for them.

But lately, something has been happening that has made me look at my journey differently.

People have told me that seeing my journey encouraged them to start exercising.

Someone else recently shared with me that they had taken an important step toward getting help, learning to love themselves, and letting go of some of the things they had been carrying.

That touched me deeply.

But not because I thought:

Look what I did.

Instead, I thought:

Look what they are discovering within themselves.

Maybe We Don't Change People

We often say:

"That person changed my life."

But I've started wondering if that's really what happens.

Maybe people don't change us.

Maybe they show us something, and we decide what to do with what we've seen.

Someone can show us kindness, but we decide whether to carry that kindness forward.

Someone can believe in us, but eventually we have to decide to believe in ourselves.

Someone can show us strength, but we still have to take our own first step.

Even the people who hurt us can teach us something.

We decide whether we carry that hurt forward or learn from it.

We decide whether we evolve or stay the same.

Maybe when we meet someone kind and good, they don't put goodness inside of us.

Maybe their goodness helps us recognize the goodness that was already there.

Maybe We Are Mirrors for Each Other

I've realized that I don't want anyone looking at my life and thinking that I'm somehow stronger or better than they are.

I'm not.

I'm still learning.

I'm still growing.

I still experience happiness, pain, sadness, anger, guilt, fear, shame, and confusion.

I still make mistakes.

There are still moments when I have to look within myself and ask difficult questions.

The difference is that I'm learning to talk about those moments instead of hiding them.

Maybe that's part of my purpose.

To learn.

To speak about my experiences.

To speak about my feelings and thoughts.

To talk about how I deal with my pain, my sadness, my happiness, my guilt, my anger, my shame, my confusion, and my fear.

Maybe sometimes my words can become the words someone else hasn't been able to say out loud yet.

Maybe I can be a vessel for those words.

And maybe I can also be a mirror.

Because a mirror doesn't create what's standing in front of it.

It simply helps us see what was already there.

Our Stories Are Different, but Our Feelings Connect Us

I want my words to reach beyond age, gender, or background.

Because pain doesn't belong to one gender.

Neither does fear.

Neither does heartbreak.

Neither does shame.

Neither does hope.

And neither does strength.

Our stories may look completely different, but so many of the emotions underneath them are the same.

Someone may read about why I started exercising and recognize their own reason for wanting to begin.

Someone else may realize they're ready to ask for help.

Another person may decide to set a boundary, forgive themselves, return to something they love, try something they've always been afraid of, or simply get up tomorrow and try again.

Their next step doesn't have to look like mine.

It just has to belong to them.

I Don't Want to Change You

I've realized something important about why I share my journey.

I don't want to change anyone.

I don't want anyone to think they need to become like me.

And I certainly don't have all the answers.

I want to share what I'm learning while I'm living it.

Maybe you'll recognize your anger in mine.

Maybe you'll recognize your fear.

Maybe you'll recognize the guilt you've never talked about.

Maybe you'll recognize the person you used to be.

Or maybe you'll recognize the person you're trying to become.

If that happens, I hope you don't walk away thinking:

"SuzyAnna is strong."

I hope you think:

"Maybe I'm strong too."

Because if something in my journey encourages you to take a step in your own life, that step belongs to you.

You made the decision.

You found the courage.

You took the step.

Maybe I simply held up the mirror.

This Is What Strength Means to Me Now

Strength isn't pretending something doesn't hurt.

It isn't having everything figured out.

It isn't never crying, never falling, or never being afraid.

And it isn't becoming someone else.

Sometimes strength is simply looking within yourself and saying:

I can take one more step.

And then taking it.

Then another.

And another.

Until one day you look behind you and realize just how far you've come.

That's why when someone tells me that something in my journey encouraged them to make a change in their own life, I don't want the credit.

They did it.

They made the choice.

Maybe my story simply helped them see that their choice was possible.

And if my experiences—my pain, my sadness, my happiness, my mistakes, my fears, my anger, my shame, my confusion, my guilt, and everything I'm still learning—can help someone recognize something within themselves, then perhaps even the hardest parts of my story can be used for something meaningful.

Look Again

So if you're reading this and you see strength in my journey, don't stop there.

Look at yourself.

Look at everything you've already survived.

Look at everything you've learned.

Look at the person you are still becoming.

I don't want you to believe in me.

I want you to believe in you.

Because maybe the strength you've been looking for isn't somewhere out there.

Maybe someone else doesn't need to give it to you.

Maybe it's been inside you all along.

And sometimes we simply need another human being to hold up the mirror long enough for us to finally see it.

A Prayer of Gratitude

Before I close, I want to give thanks to God, because I know I haven't walked this journey alone.

Lord, thank You for giving me strength on the days when I didn't think I had any left.

Thank You for walking beside me through my pain, my anger,  my sadness, my fear, my guilt, my shame, and my confusion—even during the moments when I couldn't understand why I was going through any of it.

Thank You for the people You place in our lives: the ones who love us, the ones who encourage us, the ones who teach us, and even the ones who become part of lessons we don't understand until later.

Help me continue learning from my experiences and using my voice with love, compassion, honesty, and purpose.

And for whoever may be reading these words and struggling to believe in themselves, please help them see the strength You placed within them.

Remind them that their story isn't finished.

Remind them that their life has meaning.

And remind them that they don't have to walk through their hardest moments believing they are alone.

I don't know exactly where this journey will take me, Lord.

I only ask that You continue guiding my steps.

If my experiences can become a light that helps another person find their own way forward, help me have the courage to keep speaking.

Let my words be a vessel.

Let my journey be a mirror.

And let whoever needs them recognize the strength within themselves.

Amen. ❤️

— SuzyAnna

You are not alone. And your story isn't finished.