What You Avoid Often Holds What You Need
What you avoid doesn’t disappear; it waits.
We all have places we avoid.
Topics we sidestep. Feelings we bury. Conversations we delay. Rooms inside ourselves we never fully enter. We think I’ll deal with that later. It’s not that big of a deal. I’m fine.
What you avoid doesn’t disappear; it waits.
It waits in your body, in your breath, in your reactions.
It appears in the pause before a text reply, in the tension after a compliment. In the way, your stomach drops when someone raises their voice.
Avoidance doesn’t mean resolution.
It just means repetition, quiet, constant repetition of the things you don’t want to feel.
What you avoid often holds what you need.
The pain you avoid might hold the boundary you’ve been afraid to set. The grief you’ve buried might hold the clarity you’ve been waiting for. The discomfort you keep dodging might be the key to your next becoming.
Avoidance keeps us stuck, not because we’re weak but because we are scared.
Scared that feeling it will break us.
Scared that the truth will undo everything we’ve built.
But the feeling isn’t breaking. Truth isn’t ruined.
What you’re avoiding isn’t trying to harm you; it’s trying to free you.
Free you from the silence.
From the bracing.
From the cycle of carrying what was never faced.
You don’t need to dive in recklessly.
You must turn toward it gently, honestly, with one breath at a time.
The truth is not the threat.
Avoiding it is.
Evening Edits is a quiet gathering to write, reflect, and soften the stories we carry.
Bring your journal, your tea, your presence.
We’ll meet in stillness and words.