Breaking Free: The Untold Challenges Nobody Tells You About

Nobody Tells You How Hard It Gets

Nobody tells you how heavy the past becomes when you don’t face it. How it lingers like a ghost in the corners of your mind, waiting for the quiet moments to remind you that it never really left. They don’t warn you that pain doesn’t dissolve with time—it buries itself deep, pressing into your bones, bleeding into the choices you make, the people you love, the person you become.

You think you’re fine. You laugh, you work, you chase dreams, you fall in love. You build a life on top of the wreckage, believing that if you just keep moving, the past won’t catch up. But one day, when the noise dies down and you’re left with nothing but silence, it finds you. A familiar ache in your chest. A sudden, unexplained sadness. A fear you can’t quite name.

I know this because I’ve lived it.

For years, I carried the weight of my past like an iron chain around my soul, convinced I could outrun it. I thought if I was strong enough, if I filled my life with enough distractions, if I achieved enough, loved enough, laughed enough—maybe the pain would disappear. But the thing about unhealed wounds is they don’t stay quiet. They whisper in your thoughts. They tighten around your chest. They creep into your relationships, your decisions, your fears. And God—God doesn’t let them resurface to punish you. He brings them back to call you home.

The Struggle to Understand Yourself - Breakfree

Nobody tells you that the longer you avoid your past, the harder it becomes to understand yourself. One day, you wake up and don’t recognize the person staring back at you. You react in ways you don’t understand. You push people away, even the ones who love you.

You sabotage your own happiness. You settle for things that don’t serve you, because deep down, you don’t believe you deserve better. And when you finally try to untangle the mess, it feels impossible—like trying to put together a puzzle when half the pieces are missing.

I remember standing in front of a mirror one night, staring at my own reflection, wondering when I had become this version of myself—someone who lived more in survival mode than in joy. And that was when I realized: pain doesn’t just shape you. It controls you. Until you decide to take that control back.

The Journey of Healing

Healing isn’t just about remembering. It’s about surrender. It’s about realizing that the weight you carry was never meant to be yours alone. The Source—the divine energy that created you—never intended for you to live in chains. You were made for freedom, for peace, for joy. But you cannot receive those things if your hands are still full of the past.

You have to let go.

That’s the hardest part, isn’t it? Letting go of the things that have become so familiar, even when they hurt you. Because pain, at least, is predictable. But healing? Healing is terrifying. Healing means stepping into the unknown. It means trusting that what’s ahead is greater than what’s behind.

The Pain of Facing Yourself

Nobody tells you how painful healing is. How there are nights when you will cry out to God, asking why—why it had to be you, why you had to go through what you did. Nobody tells you that healing will feel like breaking before it feels like freedom.

But listen—your soul was never meant to stay buried in the past. You were meant to rise. To transcend. To become something greater than your pain.

The Choice to Heal

So if nobody else will tell you, let me be the one to say it:

Work through your traumas. Don’t carry them any longer than you have to. Sit with them, cry over them, scream if you must—but don’t let them define you. Let God in. Let the Source heal what you’ve been too afraid to touch.

Because nobody tells you how hard it gets when you don’t.

But I promise you—on the other side of that pain is a version of you that is free, whole, and finally at peace. And that version of you is worth every tear, every battle, every moment it takes to reach them.

And when you do—when you finally meet them—you will understand why every second of the fight was worth it.