Editor’s note: This post was originally published in July 2022 and has been thoughtfully revisited and repurposed. While the core reflection remains the same, it has been refined to reflect where I am now — with greater clarity, honesty, and intention.
Growth is a word I have come to accept as a constant in my life.
For a long time, I associated growth with the obvious — physical change, ageing, the transition from childhood into adulthood. It took years, and eventually a global lockdown, for me to truly understand that growth is far more layered than that.
During that period, I realised how much of my life had been spent doing — building a career, forming connections, keeping things moving — while quietly neglecting myself. At the advice of a friend, I began therapy. That decision marked the beginning of a much deeper journey of self-discovery, and out of that process, this blog was born.
What therapy showed me, quite quickly, was how passively I had been living. I had not been fully present in my own life, and that absence had led me into situations and relationships I would never have chosen consciously. From the very first session, I knew there was work to be done — and with that realisation came fear. Not fear of failure, but fear of *change*.
The Discomfort of Becoming: Lessons from a Teething Baby
As I dug deeper in therapy, there were moments when I genuinely didn’t recognise myself. The discomfort was intense, and at times I mistook it for losing myself. What I later understood was that I wasn’t losing who I was — I was shedding what I had outgrown.
Around that time, I spent an afternoon with friends who had recently become mothers. I watched their babies struggle through teething — restless, unsettled, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, that discomfort was necessary. Without it, they would never move beyond baby food or develop the strength needed for the next stage of growth.
That moment stayed with me.
Discomfort, I realised, is not a sign that something is wrong. It is often a sign that something is working.
If we refuse the discomfort of growth — the fear of the unknown, the fear of letting go of familiar versions of ourselves — we deny ourselves the chance to discover what else we are capable of becoming.
If I had not been brave enough to step out of the mundane and start writing, this space would not exist. I would never have connected with people across the world through shared experience. And yet, I remember how terrified I was to publish my first post — hovering over the button for hours before finally letting go.
The Fear of Outgrowing Your Old Self
On the other side of that fear, I began to see something clearly:
I wasn’t afraid because I thought I would fail. I was afraid because I was becoming someone who was bolder, more vocal, and less willing to shrink.
And if I’m honest, I didn’t particularly like the version of myself I was clinging to.
She was afraid of her own voice, her influence, her impact. She said yes when she wanted to say no. She held onto relationships long past their expiration date because she feared being alone or disliked. She allowed other people’s opinions to guide her decisions. She overextended herself for people who did not reciprocate. And she was exhausted.
Growth required me to let that version go.
That process was not easy. It meant losing parts of myself that felt familiar, even if they were no longer healthy. It also meant finding the right tools to rebuild from a stronger foundation. One book that helped me tremendously during that time was The Six Pillars of Self-Esteem by Nathaniel Branden. It forced me to look honestly at my core values — not the ones I claimed, but the ones I actually lived by.
Why Growth Demands Radical Accountability
Fast forward a few years, and I find myself here again — hearing the call to grow once more.
I noticed old habits resurfacing. Comfort sneaking back in where expansion was required. My cocoon no longer fits, and the resistance I felt was familiar — but shorter lived this time. I knew the signs too well to ignore them.
So I returned to my journal. I began taking stock of what needed to change.
Some people, routines, and commitments no longer fit into my daily life. Not out of malice or bitterness, but simply because I have outgrown them. Growth demands discernment — an honest look at where our time and energy are going, and whether those investments align with who we are becoming.
At the end of the day, I am responsible for my own growth. That responsibility requires accountability, courage, and a willingness to sit with discomfort rather than escape it.
Owning the Next Chapter
I remember a conversation with a friend during the early days of therapy. We both wondered what came after. What do you do once you start healing?
What I know now is this: you don’t need all the answers. You need presence. You need honesty. You need the courage to confront choices that no longer serve the person you are committed to becoming.
Yes, growth can feel like having your comfort blanket pulled away — exposed, cold, uncertain. But on the other side of that discomfort is warmth, clarity, and freedom. There are better connections, healthier habits, deeper purpose, and a fuller version of yourself waiting there.
Wherever you are in your growth, own it. Work at it. Take responsibility for it.
And if you’ve been living passively — waiting, shrinking, deferring — consider this your invitation to wake up. There are people in your life, and perhaps beyond it, who are waiting for you to step fully into yourself so they can do the same.
An Invitation to Your Next Chapter (Mentoring)
If you’re in a season where growth feels uncomfortable, disorienting, or quietly demanding more of you, you don’t have to hold it all alone.
From 12th January, I’ll be opening a limited number of mentoring spaces for women who want a grounded, reflective space to think out loud — without being fixed, rushed, or told who to become. These sessions are for those who are ready to look honestly at where they are, what they’re carrying, and what needs to shift in order to live with greater self-loyalty and clarity.
This is not coaching, therapy, or advice-giving. It’s a contained, intentional conversation — a space to pause, reflect, and reconnect with yourself in a way that feels respectful and steady.
If that resonates, you can read more about the mentoring offering [here].
Thank you, as always, for reading, sharing, and reflecting alongside me.
Your presence here matters.
Koya Nkrumah 