Becoming Me

Yesterday, I found myself in a situation that, a few years ago, I probably would have handled very differently.

I would have said nothing.

I would have brushed it off, carried on with my day and told myself, “It’s not worth it.”

But this time, something was different.

I received a phone call from family members. The call initially seemed to be about something completely unrelated, but during the conversation, they brought up something I had previously said to another family member.

I had told that person how I felt about the fact that we no longer spoke or engaged with each other in the way we once did. I hadn’t gone looking for an argument or said these things maliciously. I had been asked a question, and I answered honestly.

But the way the conversation was brought up yesterday made me feel ambushed.

It felt less like someone wanting to understand my perspective and more like a confrontation from the tone. I felt as though I was being made to justify why I had expressed how I felt, almost as though I had done something wrong simply by being honest.

At first, I didn’t react.

I simply explained that I had said what I said because I had been asked a question. I explained that what I had said reflected how I genuinely felt at the time.

Eventually, the conversation moved on, and there were even apologies about not being there for me and not having been present in the way they perhaps should have been.

We ended the call on what seemed like a reasonably positive note.

But afterwards, I couldn’t shake the feeling.

That evening, I was upset. I kept replaying the conversation in my mind. I couldn’t sleep properly because I kept thinking about how the whole thing had happened.

I felt attacked.

I felt ambushed.

And my children could see that I was upset.

The following morning, I was still thinking about it.

And then I did something the old me probably wouldn’t have done.

I spoke up.

I sent a voice note explaining how the conversation had made me feel. I was polite, but I was honest. I told them that I didn’t appreciate being contacted about one thing and then being confronted about something completely different without any warning.

I explained that I felt ambushed.

I explained that I hadn’t done anything wrong by answering a question honestly.

And I also addressed the fact that I hadn’t heard from them for some time, only for this issue to suddenly become the subject of a conversation.

I wasn’t rude.

I wasn’t shouting.

I wasn’t trying to create another argument.

I was simply expressing how their actions had made me feel.

And you know what?

After sending that voice note, I felt better.

It didn’t change what had happened. It didn’t erase the hurt or make me suddenly feel okay about the way the conversation had happened.

But I felt better because I had finally given myself permission to speak.

The old me would probably have swallowed it.

The old me would have said, “Leave it. It’s family. Don’t make things worse.”

The old me would have gone to bed upset, replayed the situation repeatedly in my head and probably blamed myself for being affected by it.

But I’m learning that becoming me means learning to recognise my feelings rather than dismissing them.

It means understanding my boundaries.

It means being able to say, “That hurt me.”

It means being able to say, “I didn’t appreciate the way you handled that.”

It means being able to speak my truth without feeling guilty for having feelings in the first place.

And perhaps most importantly, I’m learning that setting a boundary isn’t the same as starting a fight.

Sometimes, it’s simply telling someone how their actions affected you and allowing yourself to be heard.

I’m still learning.

I’m still figuring out what the new me looks like.

But yesterday and today reminded me that becoming me isn’t about becoming a different person.

It’s about getting to know the person I’ve always been.

Understanding my feelings.

Finding my voice.

Establishing healthy boundaries.

And no longer abandoning myself just to keep everyone else comfortable.

Maybe this is what becoming me really looks like.

I’d love to hear from you

What is something someone has done to you in the past that the old you would have simply accepted or stayed silent about, but the person you are becoming now feels ready to address?

Have you ever found your voice after years of keeping quiet?

Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments.