The Devil You Keep Feeding

Photo by Gaspar Uhas on Unsplash

Sometimes the devil doesn’t show up in your life.
Sometimes the devil shows up as you.

In the way you doubt yourself right before things get good.
In the way you ghost your own progress.
In the way you talk yourself out of the very thing your soul asked for.

We betray ourselves so quietly—
we almost believe we’re keeping ourselves safe.
And maybe, at some point, we were.

But now?

Now it’s different.
Now it’s the delay.
Now it’s the sabotage.
Now it’s the voice in your head that doesn’t belong to you anymore—
but you keep listening anyway.

We become devils to ourselves
because somewhere along the line,
we learned to fear our own becoming.

We shrink before we shine.
We punish ourselves before anyone else can.
We walk away from what we want
because staying—fully present, fully alive—feels like too much.

And I get it.

Some of the damage wasn’t your fault.
But at some point, the destruction became familiar—
and that’s when you started participating.

And the worst part?

You got good at it.
Good at abandoning yourself.
Good at being your own enemy.
Good at hiding your light just enough to survive,
but never enough to be free.

But hear me:

You can stop.
You can end that contract.
You don’t owe loyalty to your wounds.

You are not here to be both jailer and prisoner.
You are not here to live a life that apologizes for your existence.

So where do you begin?

Start in the mirror.
Stand there without flinching.
And listen—really listen—to the things you say about yourself
when no one’s around.
Catch the way you tear yourself down.
The names you call yourself in silence.
The shame you swallow like it’s just part of waking up.

Don’t run from it.
Sit with it.
Because you can’t heal what you refuse to hear.

Then do something radical:
Choose not to believe every cruel thing you’ve ever told yourself.
Interrupt the voice.
Talk back.
Tell the truth.

You begin by noticing the moment you want to sabotage,
and choosing not to feed it.
Not to punish yourself for being scared.
Not to run the same story again.

You begin by making peace with the fact that
healing will feel like grief at first.
Because you’ll have to bury the version of you
who only knew how to survive.

But there’s more than survival waiting.

There’s joy.
There’s return.
There’s a self you haven’t met yet—
one who doesn’t flinch at their own light.

And no, it’s not easy.
But it is possible.

You are not your own devil.
Not anymore.
Not if you choose differently.

Start there.

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