I Lost Myself Somewhere
A Journey Through the Trance of Unworthiness
There is a quiet war that many of us fight every single day. It does not make headlines. It does not leave visible scars. But it is exhausting. It is the war against ourselves.
I recently sat down with a book called Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach. The first chapter asked me to do something terrifying, to look honestly at the parts of myself I habitually reject and push away.
What I discovered broke my heart open. And I am sharing it here because I believe I am not alone.
The Body I Could Not Accept
The reflection began with a simple question: Do I accept my body as it is?
I thought about all the times I blamed myself when I got sick. All the moments I looked in the mirror and felt not attractive enough. The dissatisfaction with my hair, my aging, my weight. The answer to every question was yes. Yes, I judge myself. Yes, I reject this body that has carried me through every single day of my life.
And as I sat with these questions, I noticed something in my throat. A tightness. Like words I had swallowed for years were asking to come out.
The Mind I Called Broken
The questions continued: Do I accept my mind as it is?
Do I judge myself for not being intelligent enough? For having obsessive thoughts? For having a mind that is too busy, too repetitive, too dark?
Again, yes. All of it.
The sensation moved from my throat to my heart and my head. I realized I had been telling myself a story for years: There is something wrong with how I think. My mind is broken. If people saw what really goes on inside my head, they would turn away.
But underneath that fear was something else. A quiet longing. If people could really see inside me — the struggle, the reasons, the weight of it all — maybe they would not condemn me. Maybe they would understand.
The Emotions I Punished Myself For
Then came the questions about emotions: Do I accept my emotions and moods as they are?
I cry. I cry many times. I feel like crying even more.
And I condemn myself for feeling depressed. I feel ashamed of jealousy. I criticize myself for being impatient, irritable, intolerant. I tell myself that my anger and anxiety are proof that I am not progressing spiritually.
I was not only carrying difficult emotions. I was punishing myself for having them. The pain would come, and then a second layer of pain — the judgment, the shame, the voice that says a good person would not feel this way.
The Person I Tried So Hard to Hide
Finally, the questions turned to behavior and relationships: Do I feel I am a bad person because of ways I behave?
Yes. I hate myself when I act in ways that are self-centered or hurtful. I am ashamed of my outbursts of anger. I feel like I am always falling short in how I relate to my family and friends. I am down on myself for not accomplishing enough.
And when I thought about how others see me, I realized: I want people to see my effort. I want them to see what I do to keep relationships together, what I do to make things work. But I am terrified they will discover my past. The parts I have hidden. The person I am afraid I really am.
The Truth That Broke Me Open
And then it hit me.
For the last few years, I lost my happiness. I became something I was not. I lost myself somewhere.
I could not remember the details of who I used to be. But I remembered the feeling. There was a time when life did not feel this heavy. When I could simply be, without all this weight pressing down. When I enjoyed each day.
Now it is like too much.
The tears came. And for the first time in a long time, I did not fight them.
The Trance We Live In
Tara Brach calls this the trance of unworthiness. It is the quiet, constant belief that something is fundamentally wrong with us. That our body is not good enough. Our mind is broken. Our emotions are shameful. Our behavior is proof that we do not deserve love.
This trance did not begin with us. It was planted by others — by family, by culture, by moments of pain and rejection. And then it took root inside. We learned to hurt ourselves before others could. To hide before we could be seen and abandoned again.
But here is what I am learning: That voice is not the truth of who we are. It is an echo. And what is learned can, with gentleness, be unlearned.
The Way Forward
If you are reading this and you recognize yourself in these words, I want you to know something.
You are not broken. You are caught in a trance. And you are beginning to wake up from it.
The fact that you know you have lost yourself — that you remember there was a before — means the self you lost is not gone. It is buried. Hidden. Protected somewhere inside you, waiting.
Radical Acceptance is not about fixing everything that feels broken. It is about stopping the war against yourself. It is about turning toward your own pain with the same kindness you would offer a child who is hurting.
It begins with seeing clearly. And then holding what you see with compassion.
A Practice for You
If this resonates with you, here is something you can try.
Once a day — in the morning or before sleep — place your hand on your heart. Take a slow breath. And say quietly to yourself:
I am still here. Beneath all of this, I am still here. And I am finding my way back to myself.
You do not have to believe it fully. Just plant the seed.
And if the tears come, let them. They are not proof that something is wrong with you. They are proof that your heart is still alive. That the part of you that was lost is still in there — asking to come home.
To anyone walking this path: you are not alone. The trance of unworthiness tells us we must hide, that no one would understand. But healing happens when we risk being seen — and discover we are not rejected.
This is my first step. Thank you for witnessing it.
A song that can resonate this
“The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.” — Carl Rogers