Day 12: What Are The Values I Was Brought Up With?

I’ve been thinking about the values I was raised with, not just the ones spoken out loud, but the ones that lived quietly underneath everything. The ones I absorbed because they were the air in the room, not the rules on the fridge.

Some of them were beautiful. Some of them were complicated. Some of them I’m still trying to untangle from the parts of myself that grew around them.

I was taught to be responsible. To be helpful. To be the one who steps in, steps up, steps forward. I learned early that being dependable made me valuable, and that being tired was just part of being good.

I was taught to be kind, but also to be quiet. To keep the peace. To smooth things over. To make myself smaller if it meant someone else stayed comfortable. Kindness was never the problem, the shrinking was.

I was taught loyalty. Family first. Don’t give up. Don’t walk away. Don’t let people down. And while loyalty can be a beautiful thing, it can also become a chain if you’re never taught how to recognize when staying is hurting you.

I was taught faith, not always in the gentle, curious way I hold it now, but in the rigid way that says “this is how it’s done.” Still, something in me kept the soft parts alive. The parts that believe God is not a rulebook but a presence. A steadying. A breath.

I was taught to endure. To push through. To keep going even when everything in me was begging for rest. Endurance can be noble, but it can also become a mask that hides exhaustion, fear, or loneliness.

And I was taught love, real love, messy love, sacrificial love. The kind that shows up even when it’s inconvenient. The kind that tries. The kind that stays. I carry that one with me in a way that feels like home.

Now, as an adult, I’m sorting through all of it. Keeping what’s true. Releasing what’s heavy. Rewriting what needs gentleness. I’m learning that values aren’t just inherited, they’re chosen. And I get to choose mine now.