The Weight I No Longer Carry

Life has a way of pulling us in a hundred directions. We want to get it right — at work, in relationships, as parents, as friends. And when things feel heavy, our first instinct is often to fix, explain, or control. But what if the real freedom isn’t found in fixing or controlling, but in acceptance?

Acceptance is not just agreement or validation. Acceptance goes deeper than that.

Agreement means I think you are right, and it implies alignment in opinion, belief, or perspective. Validation means I see you and acknowledge your feelings or perspectives as real and understandable. It does not require agreement but gives recognition.

Acceptance, on the other hand, means I allow reality as it is to exist without resistance. It’s about making space for what is present.

Agreement says, “Yeah, my boss really is unfair. Work is awful, and I’ll never get ahead.” It reinforces the idea.

Validation says, “It makes sense that I feel frustrated about work. The pressure is real, and I want to do well.” It acknowledges the feelings as real and understandable with or without agreement.

Acceptance says, “I notice that work feels hard right now. I don’t have to like it, but I don’t need to fight it either. This is where I am, and I can allow it to exist without judgment.”

Sometimes, when things feel off within us, we seek external things to rationalize how we feel, behave, and what we do. So we seek things out that will affirm what we believe and feel, and validate our experiences. As I have grown closer to God, He has started calling me into something higher — acceptance. Not to rush, not to chase, or fix, but to notice it and not to assign meaning to it.

I am learning that I don’t have to always fix, chase, or analyze things — just to be. One thing that I have struggled with in this area is parenting. I’ve always wondered if I am doing enough. Are my kids listening to me? Do they hear me and my intentions, and not just my words? In what areas has my trauma left scars on them? When they are older, how will they remember me? Will they see me as loving and tender, or overbearing and controlling?

And while we are on the topic of control, where is the fine line between controlling my kids, guiding them, or leaving them to the world? As painful as it is to admit, there have been times when I have left my kids to the world, and I would jump from complete and total control to freedom.

Other things that cross my mind are: Will they hate me? When I am 105, will they still come to visit me? What stories will they tell about me? Will it be that ass-whooping to remember? Will that ass-whooping overshadow the affirmations I made them say, the parables and the proverbs that I gave them? Or will they see my lectures about influences — how I feel like they are being influenced by social media and role-playing, whether it’s being a thug or something else — as overbearing and toxic? Will that one week when I zoned out of reality be what they remember? Or will it be viewed through a lense of my mom literally built an entire infrastructure with safety nets from nothing and without help so we can have and that was the moment that she

needed space because the weight of the world was on her shoulder.

Or will they see that Mom was loving and guiding, and had away of being able to see the blind spots in life that they were not able to see, and just called me into something higher. Will they take my sacred teachings and carry them as they grow? Or will they be drowned out by the talking points and opinions of someone on social media or their social circle that agrees and validates them at every turn?

These are all the things that run through my mind and keep me up at night. It brings me angst, and through the chaos and overthinking, and all the advice and validation I’ve received from family and friends, God finally broke through.

It was a quiet whisper where God said, “You have not learned to surrender.”

Surrender is acceptance. When you surrender, you can just notice things about yourself — whether it is your anxiety, overthinking, or need to control outcomes and feelings. You can notice it and not need to fix it. You can notice that you have anxiety and not label yourself as anxious. For labels keep you in a box that you cannot get out of.

You are free. You are sovereign, and you are free. And with that sovereignty and with that freedom, you can learn and grow.

Acceptance is a fact. Accepting a fact about yourself is hard. I will admit, there were times when I wanted to crawl out of my own skin and become someone else. I wished to be more like Susie, whose kids were always seemingly perfect, or Tiana, who never missed a beat when it came to how her kids were well-presented and looked.

I looked at myself, my messy self, with my undeniable need to have different routines and different vibes, and every three seconds I need change. So I said, and I continued to do this — until one day God whispered, “Surrender. You don’t have to be like anyone. What you have is yours and it’s true.”

And Stephanie, if you love yourself, the ultimate form of self-love is loving a material fact about yourself that you cannot change. Accepting a fact about life. And instead of trying to validate it or gain acceptance, I accept the fact that I am different.

That is when my world changed. When I learned I don't need chasing agreement and validation. Learn to accept what is and surrender it to God. That’s where growth, peace, and true self-love begin. I am learning not to overanalyze every detail of what my kids do or don’t do, or whether they think about me in a good light or a bad light. God and I accept that the things that I do, even when imperfect, are what my kids needed at that time, and God let it unfold that way.

So yes, I accept myself. And with God, I surrender.

True freedom doesn’t come from agreement or validation — it comes from acceptance and surrender.

Agreement only reinforces my worries.

Validation can acknowledge my worries, but not all validation will help me grow. It can leave me stuck in the same cycle, always needing more validation to affirm my feelings, when someone or something presses up against it. What I truly need is acceptance and surrender.

And when I pair acceptance with surrender to God, it breaks the cycle of overthinking, control, comparison, and chasing approval.

At the end of the day — whether it’s about work, parenting, or comparing myself to others — the truth is this: I don’t need to fix myself to be worthy. I don’t need to be like anyone else. In God, I am free. I am sovereign. And I am already loved as I am.

When you feel the pressure to change who you are — to fix every flaw, to measure up, or to gain approval — are you chasing agreement and validation? Or are you stepping into the deeper place of acceptance and surrender, trusting God to use even your imperfections to shape you into who He’s called you to be?