SoftalkWithPhil

Hi.

I haven’t written a blog in sooo long and what’s crazy is writing is something I genuinely love. When I was younger I would write even if nobody was reading it. No audience. No likes. No pressure. Just me, my thoughts, and a keyboard at 1am trying to make sense of life. And honestly? I miss that girl sometimes.

Doing my podcast was fun and I loved it, but writing will always have my heart because writing lets me yap properly lol. I can pause, think, vent, reflect, cry a likkle if needed and come back to finish my thoughts. With speaking sometimes I forget what I wanted to say halfway through. So either way, thank you for being here while I share my journey again. Look at this as another relaunch. Heyyy, I will relaunch as many times as I need to until something sticks because every single day God gives us another opportunity to begin again.

And truthfully? That has been one of the hardest lessons for me lately. Starting over without feeling ashamed that I have had to start over so many times.

By the title of this blog you already know we’re talking about younger me today. Whew. Some days I miss her badly. More than I like to admit.

Especially on the days when people cross me and now I have to stop and ask myself, “What would God want me to do here?” and omg sometimes the answer is not what I want at all. Back then cursing somebody out would’ve been easier. Holding a grudge would’ve been easier. Cutting people off dramatically would’ve been easier. Some days eating whatever I want feels easier than fasting. Some days scrolling my life away feels easier than praying. Some days I miss not caring because now conviction follows me everywhere.

And if you are new to faith let me explain something because people make Christianity look like this perfect peaceful fairytale where once you give your life to God suddenly everything becomes easy peasy lemon squeezy. Be so fr.

No sah.

Sometimes following God is beautiful and sometimes it feels like your flesh is throwing a tantrum every five business days. The Bible literally says

“The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” And whew if that isn’t real life then I don’t know what is.

Matthew 26:41

There are days I genuinely miss the old version of myself. The girl who moved without overthinking conviction. The girl who did what she wanted without feeling the weight of it afterward. The girl who looked confident on the outside even when internally she was a mess.

But truthfully? I don’t want her life back.

And that’s the part God has really been showing me lately.

Because when I recently came across my old blogs, I smiled so hard reading them. I could hear younger Philisha so clearly in every sentence. So emotional. So reactive. So convinced she had life figured out at seventeen and whewww life definitely humbled her since then lol.

I used to think growth would look dramatic. I thought one day I would wake up completely healed, completely disciplined, completely soft spoken, completely mature, floating through life quoting scriptures calmly while birds sing in the background or something. Meanwhile real growth has looked way less aesthetic than that.

Growth looked like crying and praying at the same time.
Growth looked like apologizing when my pride wanted to stay silent.
Growth looked like not responding to messages immediately while angry.
Growth looked like realizing everybody who hurts me is not my enemy.
Growth looked like learning that peace and chaos cannot live in the same house.
Growth looked like God removing people I begged Him to keep.
Growth looked like me finally understanding that being loud is not the same thing as being healed.

And honestly? Some days I still feel like nothing about me has changed until I look back at how I used to react, the things I used to tolerate, the places I used to go mentally, emotionally, spiritually. Then I realize growth is not always loud.

Sometimes growth is simply the fact that the things that once controlled you no longer have the same grip on you.

The old me had a type of confidence, yes. But current me has something younger me desperately needed and did not have.

Peace.

Not perfect peace because let me not come on here acting like I have reached Heaven already lol. I still overthink. I still get frustrated. I still battle my flesh daily. I still have moments where I want to disappear from everybody and isolate myself. I still have moments where I look at my life and think, “God… what exactly are we doing here?”

But there is a peace that comes from knowing I no longer belong to the world the same way I used to.

And truthfully? That comes with grief too.

I think sometimes as Christians we don’t talk enough about grieving old versions of ourselves. Even the unhealthy versions. Even the versions God had to save us from. Sometimes we miss the ease of ignorance. Sometimes we miss certain people. Sometimes we miss old habits because flesh loves comfort even when comfort is destroying us.

There’s a Jamaican saying that says, “What sweet nanny goat a go run him belly.”

Basically, everything that feels good is not always good for you.

And whew… if I could tell younger me anything it would probably be this: stop confusing temporary excitement with peace. One will entertain you for a moment and the other will carry you through life.

I am still becoming. Still healing. Still learning God in deeper ways. Still fighting certain battles quietly. Still trying to become the woman God called me to be while also accepting that sanctification is a process. And if you don’t know what sanctification means, it’s basically the lifelong process of becoming more like Christ. Not overnight perfection. Process.

So if you are reading this and you also miss old versions of yourself, I understand. Truly.

But do not romanticize seasons that were slowly destroying you.

Yes, maybe you laughed more.
Maybe you looked happier online.
Maybe life felt more exciting.
Maybe you had more attention.
Maybe you felt more wanted.

But ask yourself honestly:
Did you have peace?
Did you have purpose?
Did you have God at the center?

Because now when I look back at younger me, I don’t hate her at all. I actually love her deeply. She survived a lot. She was trying her best with the knowledge she had at the time.

But I also thank God for growth.

Even the painful kind.

Especially the painful kind.

Love, Phil xoxo