✨ Outgrowing Versions of Yourself That No Longer Fit 🌱✨

  To evolve is to say goodbye to pieces of you that once fit, while making space for the person you’re still becoming.

 When I wrote  Reconciling with Yourself: The Healing We Forget to Embrace, I spoke about the power of making peace with who you’ve been, the choices, the detours, and the survival habits that carried you through difficult seasons. Reconciliation is the first step: it’s about saying, “I see you. I forgive you. I honor you.”

But reconciliation is not the end of the journey. The next step is outgrowing.

Because once you’ve made peace with who you were, you begin to realize that you can’t stay there forever. Survival modes, though necessary, were never meant to be permanent homes. And this is where the tender, difficult work begins: outgrowing versions of yourself that no longer fit.

We all have that favorite pair of trousers, dress, or pair of shoes we once loved. At the time, it fit perfectly, comfortable, familiar, maybe even flattering. But then we grew. And when we try to squeeze back into it, the dress might rip, the trousers may tear, and the shoes will hurt our feet because they’re now too small.

That’s what it’s like with old habits and versions of ourselves. There was a time they fit us perfectly, when they felt safe and familiar. Maybe it was the way you laughed things off so no one saw how deeply they hurt you. Maybe it was saying “yes” to every request because the thought of disappointing someone felt unbearable. Maybe it was pouring into people who never poured back, because being needed felt better than being ignored. These versions of you felt right once, like that dress, those shoes, but now they are too small for the person you’re becoming.

And the truth is—they worked. At least for a while. Smiling when you wanted to cry kept you from breaking down at the wrong moment. Keeping quiet when you wanted to speak protected you from conflict in a space where your words wouldn’t have been heard anyway. Pleasing everyone around you kept the peace in households, friendships, or relationships where standing up for yourself might have cost you more than you were ready to lose. These versions of you weren’t mistakes; they were survival. They allowed you to navigate seasons where safety mattered more than authenticity.

But the thing about survival habits is that they aren’t meant to last forever. What once helped you endure can start to hold you back. That silence that once kept you safe now stifles your voice. That smile that covered your pain now feels fake, heavy, exhausting. That need to be everything for everyone now leaves you empty, questioning who shows up for you in return. The clothes of your old self may still be in the closet, but when you try to wear them, you feel the squeeze; they no longer belong to the person you are becoming.

And here’s the part we often don’t talk about: outgrowing these versions comes with grief. It’s not just a clean break. It’s a process of mourning identities you once wore comfortably. It’s almost like losing a friend, you miss the comfort, the familiarity, and the way it once felt like home. You may miss the laughter that covered your pain, even though it was only a mask. You may miss being the dependable one, even though it left you drained. You may even miss people tied to that version of you, friendships or relationships that only worked because you stayed small.

That grief is real. And sometimes it lingers.

Because when you let go, it doesn’t just feel like change, it can feel like betrayal. You may feel guilty, as though you’re turning your back on your younger self. But the truth is, you’re not betraying them; instead, you’re honoring them. She helped you survive. She gave you coping mechanisms when you didn’t know better. She found ways to shield you in moments of uncertainty, and she did the best she could with what she had. That version of you deserves gratitude, but she doesn’t have to lead anymore. Grieving her is part of the process—it means acknowledging her effort while also making peace with the fact that you cannot carry her forever.

And every time you feel the pull of the old you, don’t beat yourself up. You’re not failing, you’re human. Our brains crave what’s familiar, even when it no longer serves us. Habits are like well-worn paths in the mind, and your brain will return to them simply because it remembers the way. That’s why falling back into old behaviors isn’t proof you’re stuck, it’s proof you’re still practicing. It’s your brain reaching for comfort, not your soul reversing growth.

But comfort isn’t the same as growth. And the versions of us built for survival can’t sustain the life we’re building for thriving. That’s why outgrowing is so necessary, and also so tender. It asks you to acknowledge that those versions served their purpose and then gently release them. It asks you to trade in the old clothes, even if you once loved how they looked, because you’ve outgrown them.

And here’s where grace comes in. Outgrowing yourself doesn’t mean you’ll never slip back. You will. We all do. But each time you notice yourself reverting, you also notice something powerful; you’ve grown enough to recognize it. That awareness is evidence of change. You’re not the same as you were, even if your steps are shaky.

The new version of you deserves space. The one who says “no” without apologizing. The one who chooses rest without guilt. The one who no longer squeezes into spaces where she’s only tolerated. The one who chooses authenticity over survival, peace over perfection, freedom over fear.

So be patient with yourself. Be gentle. Outgrowing is not about hating the old versions of you; it’s about honoring them for carrying you as far as they could, and then choosing to walk further without them. Just as your body grew out of those clothes without you even noticing, your soul is quietly stretching into something bigger, freer, and truer.

The real question isn’t, “Why do I sometimes fall back?” It’s, “How can I keep moving forward, even when the old feels easier?” Because every step forward, no matter how small, is proof that you’ve already outgrown what no longer fits.

Tips for Navigating the Season of Outgrowing

• Sit with the discomfort – Growth feels uneasy because you’re stretching into unfamiliar territory. Let yourself feel it instead of rushing through.

• Practice self-compassion – Remind yourself that it’s okay to not have it all figured out. You’re learning, not failing.

• Journal or reflect – Writing down your thoughts can help you process what you’re releasing and what you’re stepping into.

• Limit self-comparison – Your timeline won’t look like everyone else’s. Trust your own pace.

• Lean on safe spaces – Share your feelings with people who understand or simply hold space without judgment.

• Create small anchors – Build routines or practices that ground you (reading, walks, prayer, meditation). They remind you of stability while everything else shifts.

• Trust the process – Outgrowing is proof you’re evolving. The unfamiliar won’t last forever—it’s preparing you for alignment.

Outgrowing is rarely comfortable, but it’s always necessary. It’s the bridge between who you were and who you’re becoming. The uncertainty, the silence, the shifts,  they’re all part of the unfolding. Trust that what feels heavy to carry now will one day make sense, and that letting go is simply clearing space for what’s meant to stay.

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