Making someone else’s understanding the measure of your worth becomes kryptonite to your soul.
The truest validation comes from the journey inward, where self-understanding meets self-love.
Have you ever felt that hollow ache after a conversation with someone, the feeling of being invisible, unseen, and unheard? You replay the moment over and over in your mind, wondering if they ever truly heard your heart. The emotional aftershock settles in. Did they even hear me? The loneliness that follows is unmistakable.
Dear Rising Soul,
We have all been there at one time or another and felt the sting of being misunderstood, a feeling that leaves us almost alien in a world that does not seem to understand or see us. Sometimes we long for validation from people who may never truly see or understand us, which can leave us feeling hurt, disappointed, and rejected. Validation can feel like safety.
But here is the part we often miss: not everyone will see us the way we hope to be seen, not because we are wrong about who we are, but because of their emotional capacity. Some people cannot see beyond their own need to be seen and validated, their own search for safety. Others cannot see past the version of us they have created in their mind or their need to be right. And that sense of safety we chase through validation is, like many things in life, an illusion rather than truth. We think being acknowledged solidifies our humanity.
People often lack the ability to truly listen. Many are already in their own heads, preparing what they will say next. Small ears cannot hear your heart. And when we hand over our worth to someone else’s response, we give our power away.
We all crave not just to be seen but to have our hearts seen. We yearn to belong. Humans are tribal, so it is in our nature. We seek community even when our pain tries to convince us otherwise. As a form of protection, pain tells us we do not need anyone. So we shut down, lock ourselves away, and convince ourselves we are better off alone, that the risk of vulnerability is too high, and that using our voices and speaking our truth is not worth the potential hurt.
Much of this comes from childhood, where we learned that being seen equates to being loved. Our worth does not decrease because another person fails to understand us. When we realize that the only validation we truly need comes from within, we stop chasing breadcrumbs and looking for affirmations from others to prove our worth. When we see and understand ourselves, we stop giving others the power to reign over our value. We begin choosing people and spaces where we are naturally understood. The moments we once misunderstood hold less power, and we move past them with greater ease because our sense of self no longer depends on someone else. We begin living and breathing the truth that we are enough, and we understand ourselves so deeply that we are not easily shaken or unraveled.
We do not need to over-explain ourselves to those who genuinely see us. These people become the ease and light in our lives, the mirrors that reflect the understanding we once craved, because we have gained the self-understanding we were missing. These people feel like family, like safety, like home, because of their willingness to try to understand us. We no longer feel the need to fix others’ perceptions, and we do not measure our worth by whether someone understands us. Instead, we step into a life where we feel recognized and aligned with likeminded individuals. We stop climbing mountains and spinning in circles and take the path toward community and unity. We learn to see ourselves in all our beauty and to allow our truth to stand firm. And in this, we rise.
You, dear soul, are all the validation you need. You hold the reins. Embrace the understanding you offer yourself.
It’s not during the storm that we recognize its purpose. It’s in the aftermath, when the waves settle and the silence returns, that we see how it changed us and redirected our path.
The storm itself is real and brutal. As we’re tossed about, we cry out for freedom and peace, desperate for relief from the chaos. But it’s only after the clouds pass, when we take that first trembling breath and realize we made it through, and the calm wraps around us, that reflection and understanding arrive.
We see that the thunder was a wisdom older than fear speaking, the waves of turmoil, the people and moments sent to stir a tide of change and guide us toward the path meant for us, and to show us whether we stay because it’s truly our path, or because we’re caught in old patterns.
And when we lie spent on the deck of that ship, clinging to anything that will keep us afloat, a whisper rises from deep within and says:
“Remember who you are. Rise in your strength like never before. Heal the pain that keeps you trapped in the suffering of the storm. Go forth, and create change.”
May today you rest in grace for the season you’re in, and let that grace flow toward others.
Dear Rising Soul, As seasons turn into years, I look back at my youth. I hold space for the person I was— the one who didn’t have all the answers or know the way forward, but tried anyway. When things didn’t work out, they found another way. Always showing up. Now, at this stage of my life, I honor the softer version of myself— the one who no longer pushes or forces out of fear of being left behind. I honor the wisdom that comes from a life well lived. I am learning that stronger doesn’t mean forcing, but the steady softness that comes with trust— the kind that doesn’t need to prove, only to be. When we are young, we worry about tomorrow and what’s to come. When we grow older, we see that wisdom isn’t something we chase— it’s something we become through all we’ve lived. We learn to soften, to stop forcing, and to simply trust the wisdom within us. The lessons. The experiences. The grace.
Are you waiting for clarity before making a move, afraid you’ll choose wrong? We’ve all been there, standing still, rooted in fear, waiting for the “right” answer. But if we never try, how will we ever know?
Sometimes the best thing we can do is throw a dart and hope it sticks. And if it doesn’t, we throw another. Each one teaches us something, how to trust ourselves, how to begin again, how to survive the not-knowing.
Like raising children, life doesn’t come with a handbook. We’re here to learn, grow, and take chances. If we never throw that dart, we may miss the beautiful things waiting for us just beyond hesitation. It’s not about hitting the bullseye every time. It’s about the trying, the movement, the courage to act.
Life has offered me this lesson more than once, but one time stands out clearly in my memory. My Facebook page became a visible extension of my heart work, a space where I spread love and understanding through my soul’s musings with the world. In 2021, I started a page that quickly grew to 42,000 followers. It felt amazing to see that my words and desire to spread compassion were resonating. But along with the love came something else: bullying and hate. I didn’t understand how something created from a place of kindness could become so toxic.
Each morning, I would rise early to write my daily Soul Musings. Before I even sat down, fear would whisper, warning me not to post. My heart would counter, saying, If there’s but one person you can help today, it’s worth whatever comes. I’d whisper a quiet prayer for protection and hit publish. Then the fear would rush back in as the notifications began, bringing love, gratitude, and connection, and woven between them, cruelty. I cried more times than I can count, asking, Why? I’m only trying to remind people they matter.
Then, in 2023, hackers took my page. Despite countless emails to Facebook, nothing was done. My page, my heart’s work, was taken over and turned into something unrecognizable. For a time, I felt both anger and relief. Relief that I no longer had to face the daily storm of hate. Eventually, I accepted that maybe that chapter had closed, and I was done with social media.
Then, in September 2025, Facebook deleted the hacked page, freeing the name I had once built with so much love. I suddenly had a choice: stay in my resolve that I was finished, or start again from the bottom. Something fierce rose in me. I wasn’t the same person anymore. The years in between had brought pain, growth, and strength. I had walked through fire and come out more sure of who I was. Why should I fear what someone behind a screen thought of me? Their pain and lack of peace weren’t mine to carry.
So I decided to begin again. To build from a stronger foundation. The spirit of the lion within me, the same spirit we all carry, rose up. Like the phoenix from the ashes, I rose. In those years between, I remembered who I was. I healed. I rose.
What I’ve learned is that the point was never about numbers or approval. It was about showing up, even when my hands shook. It was about finding the courage to try again when life whispered, Start over.
We all face those moments when fear, loss, or exhaustion make us wonder if it’s worth it. But every time we throw another dart, we remind life that we’re still here, still willing, still growing.
So wherever you are today, pick up your own dart. Let the spark inside you rise. Try again, not because you know it will work, but because your soul deserves the chance to see what might.
Have you noticed that the moment you choose yourself, people often don’t understand? They might say, “You’ve changed,” or, “You’ve become hard.”
The truth is, when you start standing in your power, those who once relied on your compliance can feel unsettled. You are no longer a fictional character in their story, one they wrote to keep themselves comfortable. You’re the hero now, creating a story of your own making.
By now, you’ve lived enough life to know that others will characterize you at the level of their own wounds. It doesn’t matter who they believe you to be; your power lies in how you see yourself.
For too long, we’ve allowed the noise of others — their expectations, opinions, and projections — to seep into our inner world. But there comes a time when your soul says, enough. You step off their merry-go-round and choose your own path, one of peace, joy, and authenticity over approval.
Some will pull away because they can no longer control the version of you that stayed small to keep them comfortable. They may feel powerless because they can’t understand why you no longer show up the way you used to.
This choice to stand in your power can feel isolating and even frightening, but if we don’t defend our right to live wholly, freely, and authentically, who will?
Rising in your truth is not rebellion. It’s you remembering your value.
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