The Hidden Cost of Self-Abandonment: It’s Time to Stop Shrinking

“Self-abandonment is the quiet act of disappearing from your own life to keep someone else comfortable. Coming home is the decision to stop leaving yourself behind.”
—Taylor Gilmore

I know what it’s like to put yourself last without even realizing you’re doing it.
I did it for most of my life. And even now, I still catch myself slipping back into those old patterns.

Saying yes because it’s easier. Staying quiet to keep the peace.
Telling myself it’s not a big deal, that my needs can wait, that someone else needs me more.

Over time, it becomes a habit—so automatic you don’t even see it as abandonment.
You see it as being responsible.
Being helpful. Being strong.

But there’s a quiet cost to leaving yourself behind. At first, it might not be obvious. You’re tired. A little overwhelmed. But over time, it wears you down. You feel exhausted, even when you’ve had rest. You go through the motions, but there’s this sense that you’re only skimming the surface of your own life. You find yourself irritated or resentful, and you can’t quite explain why. And sometimes, even when you’re surrounded by people, you still feel completely alone, like no one really sees you.

That’s what self-abandonment feels like.

It’s not always dramatic. Sometimes it’s so subtle, you miss it. It happens when you silence your emotions to keep the mood light. When you go along with something you don’t agree with just to avoid being seen as difficult. When you dismiss what you want before you’ve even allowed yourself to want it.

Often, it’s because somewhere along the way, your nervous system learned to equate safety with self-sacrifice. You became the one who kept things together, the one who made things easier for everyone else, the one who didn’t ask for much.

And maybe that served you for a while.

But eventually, it leaves you feeling like you’ve disappeared inside your own life.

How It Shows Up

Self-abandonment shows up in different ways. You might not even realize you’re doing it at first.

You might notice that:

• You over-explain your decisions or second-guess your boundaries.
• You feel anxious anytime someone’s upset, even when it has nothing to do with you.
• You feel disconnected from your body or numb in your emotions.
• You don’t always know what you want, because you’ve spent so much time focused on what others need.

And maybe, you find yourself apologizing a lot—for needing a break, for saying no, or just for having feelings that are inconvenient for someone else.

You Don’t Have to Keep Shrinking

You can begin by making small, daily choices to stay with yourself, especially when it feels uncomfortable.

Start paying attention. Notice the moments when you override your needs or minimize your feelings. Don’t judge yourself. Just notice.

Ask, “What do I need right now?”

You may not have the answer right away. That’s okay. Keep asking. You’re rebuilding trust with yourself.

Practice speaking your truth in small ways. You don’t have to explain or apologize. A simple “I’d rather not” or “That doesn’t work for me” is enough. These moments matter more than you think.

And above all, be gentle with yourself. Self-abandonment was a strategy that helped you survive. But now, you’re choosing something different. And that choice is an act of deep self-respect.

A Few Questions to Reflect On:

• What do I keep minimizing that actually matters to me?
• When was the last time I felt God inviting me to stay present with myself instead of abandoning who I am?
• What part of me is asking me to speak up—and what would it sound like if I let her?

You don’t need to become someone new. You don’t need to fix yourself or have it all figured out by tomorrow. You just need to stop leaving the woman you’ve always been. She’s still here—underneath the habits, the silence, the old survival strategies. She’s been waiting for you to come back.

And the beautiful thing is… you can. You can choose, one moment at a time, to stay with yourself. To listen. To honor what’s true. To let coming home be a slow, sacred return. That’s what this journey is really about—not becoming, just returning.

And you are so very worth the return.

Be Blessed!