Honestly, Sandie

listening to: The Joke

THE SETTLING NEVER CAME

I love how women can spend years unraveling spiritually, emotionally, psychologically, and relationally… and somewhere a guy in a church lobby goes, “Yeah, she got offended.”

Honestly? Incredible work.

Because apparently there’s no easier way to explain a woman becoming fully awake than reducing her to being emotional.

And listen, I get it. Truly.

“Offended” is easier.

It’s cleaner.
Less threatening.
Less complicated than admitting someone may have actually changed in a deep and irreversible way.

Because what would people even do with that?

What do you call it when a woman stops trying to fit inside the version of herself that kept everyone else comfortable?

What do you call it when she starts asking questions that don’t have neat little Christian bookstore answers attached to them?

What do you call it when she stops fearing humanity and starts realizing it might actually be the holiest part of all?

Apparently… offended.

Cute.

But the truth is, the settling never came.

And I don’t want it to anymore.

In March of 2023, I wrote this in my notes app because apparently my entire personality is documenting my own existential crisis in real time. I take notes constantly. Thoughts. Feelings. Tiny revelations while unloading the dishwasher. You know. Journalism.

And one night I wrote this:

“I’ve been shaken. And things are so stirred that I don’t know when the settling will happen. And I kind of don’t want it to. I like being awake to the things that once kept me asleep.”

When I reread that now, I want to hug that version of me a little.

Because she thought she was unraveling.

But really?
She was becoming.

And there’s a difference.

At the time, I kept trying to figure out if what I was experiencing counted as church hurt. But honestly, I think even that phrase feels too small now. Too polished. Too packaged for social media graphics and podcast episodes.

No. This was bigger than that.

This was a complete shift in how I understood humanity, spirituality, motherhood, connection, pain, freedom, and myself.

And before anyone panics, relax. I still believe in God. I just think He’s a lot bigger than the tiny fearful boxes people keep trying to cram Him into.

I no longer believe the goal of life is to become less human.

I think the whole point is to become fully alive inside of it.

And wow does that change things.

Because once you stop trying to constantly manage appearances and morality and perfection and performance… you start noticing people differently.

You stop seeing your children as little behavior projects and start seeing them as humans having a real experience here on this weird floating rock in space just like the rest of us.

You stop trying to control every outcome.

You start paying attention instead.

You sit with people more softly.

You judge less because you realize how complicated being alive actually is.

You stop standing safely on the riverbank yelling advice to drowning people while pretending your clean clothes make you wise.

And instead?

You get in the water.

That’s the version of me I am now.

Not cleaner.
Not more polished.
Not more acceptable.

More human.

And honestly, I think humanity is sacred.

Not just the shiny parts either.

Not just the healed parts.
Not just the worship music moments.
Not just the “victory” stories people clap for.

I mean all of it.

The grief.
The confusion.
The rebuilding.
The motherhood that feels beautiful one minute and impossible the next.
The friendships that change.
The loneliness.
The freedom.
The deep breath you take when you realize you no longer need permission to trust yourself.

All of it.

I spent years believing transformation meant becoming someone more controlled. More contained. More “good.”

Now I think transformation looks a lot more like honesty.

Like awareness.

Like becoming brave enough to stop performing.

And maybe that’s why the settling never came.

Because I was never meant to settle back into the old version of myself.

That woman survived beautifully for the season she was in. I love her deeply for that.

But this woman?

This woman is awake.

She asks hard questions.
She trusts herself.
She gets emotional.
She laughs loudly.
She notices things.
She feels deeply.
She doesn’t need every answer wrapped in certainty to believe life is meaningful.

And maybe my favorite part of all of this is that I’m no longer afraid of being “too much.”

Too emotional.
Too thoughtful.
Too questioning.
Too aware.
Too human.

Because if being fully alive makes people uncomfortable… maybe the problem was never my aliveness.

Maybe some people just need everyone else asleep in order to feel safe.

But I like being awake.

I like noticing things that once would have terrified me.

I like conversations that crack me open.
I like people who are honest about how hard life can be.
I like the depth that pain creates.
I like the tenderness that grief leaves behind when it finally stops trying to destroy you.

And maybe that sounds dramatic.

Again. We’ve met.

But I think there’s something holy about becoming fully yourself without needing to hate the versions of yourself that came before.

I think there’s something sacred about getting your feet dirty in the actual experience of being alive.

Not managing life from a distance.

Living it.

Fully.

And honestly?

I think that’s what I was looking for all along.

This post is inspired by the emotional atmosphere of The Joke. Lyrics and music belong to their respective creators. I highly recommend listening while reading because honestly… the soul of this one lives there.