Lent 2026 · Day 29: Check Yourself, And Then Love Yourself Anyway

“Check yourself. Sometimes you are the toxic person. Sometimes you are the mean, negative person you’re looking to push away. Sometimes the problem is you. And that doesn’t make you less worthy. Keep on growing. Keep on checking yourself. Keep on motivating yourself. Mistakes are opportunities. Look at them, own them, grow from them and move on. Do better, be better. You’re human. It’s okay.” — Unknown

I am a good person. There are, of course, groups or people who would say otherwise. But what does it even mean to be a good person?

It can mean different things depending on who you ask. But for me, it’s always been about moving through the world with integrity, even when no one is watching. And especially when people are.

The Universe has an interesting way of dealing out my karma, and sometimes that bus is coming 100 miles an hour straight at me.

When I was eight or nine, I tried stealing a candy bar. Not because I needed it, I just wanted to see if I could get away with it. Of course, I didn’t. I guess I wasn’t a very sneaky child. The grocer caught me before I made it out the door. My mom was right there. Embarrassed. She paid for it. And I didn’t even get to eat it.

When we got home… let’s just say Filipino discipline is swift, and she made sure that lesson stuck.

I never tried to shoplift again. Even when all my friends were doing it, because let’s be real, that’s what bored teenagers do.

For a long time, I thought being a “good person” meant doing everything right. Not messing up. Not hurting people. Not being the problem.

But life doesn’t work like that.

I am far from perfect. I’m riddled with flaws. I’ve hurt people. I’ve shut down. I’ve been reactive. I’ve been guarded. I’ve been the person I would struggle to deal with if I met me on the wrong day.

And that’s a hard thing to admit.

For the most part, I’ve been able to manage my mental health fairly well. But when it’s unmanaged, it complicates everything.

When I was a teenager, I didn’t know how to express what I was feeling. I didn’t have the language. Depression made everything feel dull. I didn’t know if I was just sad or if something was actually wrong.

I started therapy in my early 20s, for anger management. Back when it still felt taboo. Back when taking medication felt like admitting weakness. I thought I could just push through. Sleep better. Eat right. Exercise. Journal. Do all the “right” things.

And for a long time, I carried shame about that.

There were times I couldn’t push through.

When I was 21, I tried to hurt myself. I was unsuccessful, but the marks were hard to hide. My manager saw them. She knew exactly what I had tried to do. She pulled me aside and said, “If you need anything, or just someone to talk to, I’m here. And don’t ever fvcking do that again.”

I didn’t talk about it. Not with friends. Not with partners. I kept it quiet, thinking if I ignored it, it would go away.

It doesn’t work like that.

It was my father, honestly the last person you’d expect, who said, “Our health insurance covers therapy if you need it.”

I’ve lost two close friends to suicide.

That changes you. It shifts how you see everything, yourself, other people, what people are carrying that you can’t see. And as I’ve gotten older, I understand more why people get to that point. Living is exhausting, mentally, physically, spiritually. Especially with everything happening in the world right now.

Because of all that, it’s been important to me to talk about mental health openly. To not shame or blame people who are doing the best they can with what they have.

Because silence doesn’t protect us.

It isolates us.

One in four people live with a diagnosed mental health condition. That’s not rare. That’s not abnormal. That’s human.

And still, we act like we’re supposed to have it all together. All the time.

We don’t. Not even a little.

Most anger? It’s sadness in disguise.

For a long time, I didn’t cry. I snapped. I got short. Defensive. Irritated. I masked sadness with anger because sadness felt too vulnerable. Anger gives you something to do. You can lash out. You can push people away. Sadness… you have to sit in it.

And sitting in it feels useless. Unproductive. Ineffective.

But that’s the hard part, right? Sitting in the feeling, no matter how uncomfortable it gets. And eventually, it moves through you.

That’s the human experience.

Let’s not minimize how heavy depression or anxiety can be. And when you layer that with a lifetime of microaggressions, being questioned, corrected, misunderstood, it builds.

Quietly. Over time.

Death by a thousand cuts.

So yeah, I’m warm. I’m generous. I give a lot. Until I can’t. And when I can’t, I shut down. I pull back. I freeze people out. It’s not always graceful. It’s not always fair. But it’s real. And it’s how I used to cope.

And here’s the difference now. I know this about myself.

I work on it.

I go to therapy.

I take my meds.

I reflect.

I take accountability.

Not to prove anything to anyone.

But because I have to live with myself.

We can’t be strong all the time.

Sometimes stepping back isn’t avoidance, it’s survival. It’s regrouping so you can come back with clarity instead of causing more harm.

I’m learning I don’t have to win every argument. I don’t have to prove every point. I don’t have to stay in spaces romantic, platonic, or otherwise, that make me question my sanity.

It’s messy.

But it’s growth.

I’ve worked too hard to be healthy, whole, and self-aware to give that up. And at the same time, I have to hold space for this truth too.

Sometimes, I’m the problem.

And that doesn’t make me unworthy.

It makes me human.

Lenten Reflection: Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself

“Give careful thought to the paths for your feet and be steadfast in all your ways.” — Proverbs 4:26 (NRSV)

Lent isn’t just about giving things up.

It’s about being honest.

Sometimes we are the ones who need to change.

Sometimes we are the ones causing harm, intentionally or not.

And that truth isn’t meant to shame us.

It’s meant to wake us up.

Just for today, sit with this:

🔹 What patterns am I repeating that are hurting me or others?

🔹 Where am I avoiding accountability in the name of self-protection?

🔹 How can I hold myself accountable and offer myself grace?

Growth is messy.

Healing is ongoing.

But we keep showing up.

Because healing matters.

Because people matter.

Because we matter.

Take care of yourselves.

Take care of each other. 🧡

#lentreflection2026 #SpiritualWilderness #MentalHealthMatters #CheckYourself #HumanAndHoly