I went down a rabbit hole this week when I discovered Mark Batterson’s book, Soulprint.
And by rabbit hole, I mean pages of notes that turned into self-made journal prompts that questioned everything about my past experiences, my interpretation of those experiences, and some of the things I still question about myself today.
I used to think I had a really good childhood.
I was cared for.
I had food on the table.
Clothes on my back.
A roof over my head.
In many ways, I had a normal childhood. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that two things can be true at once. I can be grateful for the good parts and still acknowledge that some experiences left deeper marks than I understood at the time.
Marks that I know are there but don’t often spend much time looking at. After all, if you don’t look at the wound, you don’t have to feel it. Right?
But lately I’ve found myself thinking more about some of those experiences and how they may have quietly shaped the way I see myself.
Maybe ignoring them for decades wasn’t such a great strategy after all.
As I worked my way through Soulprint, I realized I was going to have to take a deeper look at some of those memories and the beliefs they had created over the years.
It was uncomfortable. It was lengthy. It was pages and pages of notes. And that was only covering the first twenty years of my life.
You might be wondering what the point is of digging up old hurts. Honestly, I wondered the same thing. Then I came across one sentence that stopped me in my tracks:
The interpretation of our experiences will either define us or refine us.
And suddenly I saw something I hadn’t seen before. Without realizing it, I had spent years allowing some of those experiences to define me.
I had used them as evidence. Evidence that I wasn’t important. Evidence that I wasn’t worthy. Evidence that I didn’t matter as much as other people.
Not consciously. But quietly. Over time. And then I asked myself a different question.
What if those same experiences had also refined me?
What if they had developed qualities in me that I now use every day?
Qualities like empathy. Compassion. The ability to create space for people to feel seen, heard, understood, and valued.
What if those moments, as painful and uncomfortable as they were, ended up giving me some of my greatest superpowers?
That thought stopped me in my tracks too.
Because I had spent so much time focusing on what those experiences took from me that I had never really considered what they gave me.
And what if the same is true for you?
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting that pain is good. Or that disappointment, grief, rejection, or heartbreak are experiences we should be grateful for. I wouldn’t wish those things on anyone. And I certainly wouldn’t choose to relive them.
But what if, once we’re far enough removed from them, we can begin to see something else?
What if we can look back and recognize not only the wound, but also the wisdom?
Not only the pain, but also the strength it developed.
Not only the scar, but also the person we became because of it.
Maybe healing isn’t always about pretending something didn’t hurt.
Maybe sometimes healing is recognizing that even though it hurt, it also shaped us.
And perhaps the experiences we thought would define us forever… were actually refining us all along.
