There was a period where I couldn't say a single affirmation without feeling like I was pretending.
"I am confident."
No, I'm not.
"I am worthy of love."
Then why does it hurt so much?
"I am enough."
If I were enough, I wouldn't need to keep saying this.
It felt like standing in front of a mirror, forcing a smile, and hoping my reflection would believe me first.
So I stopped.
I thought affirmations just weren't for me. That maybe I wasn't wired for this kind of thing. That I was too realistic, too tired, too… broken, maybe.
And I think a lot of us feel that way.
We're told affirmations will change our lives. That if we repeat them enough, we'll start believing them. That our subconscious will catch up. That the universe will respond.
But what if you don't believe them?
What if saying "I am abundant" makes you feel worse because all you see is lack?
What if the gap between the affirmation and your reality feels too wide to cross?
Then it just becomes another thing you're failing at.
I don't think affirmations are supposed to feel like that.
I think somewhere along the way, they became something we perform instead of something we feel.
We were taught to say the biggest, boldest versions of the truth we wanted. To fake it till we make it. To speak it into existence.
But no one really told us what to do when our nervous system rejects it completely.
When your body tenses up.
When your mind whispers, liar.
When the affirmation feels like it's floating somewhere far away from where you actually are.
That's not resistance.
That's not self-sabotage.
That's just… honesty.
So I started thinking about affirmations differently.
Not as declarations.
Not as manifestations.
Not as things I had to believe right now.
But as gentle redirections.
Like turning your face slightly toward the light, even if you're still sitting in the shade.
Because maybe affirmations aren't supposed to convince you of something that feels impossible.
Maybe they're just supposed to remind you of something that's already quietly true, even if you can't feel it yet.
I stopped saying "I am confident" and started saying:
"I'm learning to trust myself more."
I stopped saying "I am healed" and started saying:
"I'm allowed to heal slowly."
I stopped saying "I am worthy" and started saying:
"I don't have to earn my place here."
Smaller.
Softer.
Closer to where I actually was.
And something shifted.
Not in a lightning-bolt kind of way.
Not in a "my life transformed overnight" kind of way.
But in a quiet way.
In a way that felt like I wasn't fighting myself anymore.
Because I think the real work of affirmations isn't about repeating words until you believe them.
It's about noticing where the resistance lives.
It's about finding the gentlest version of the truth that doesn't make your whole body say no.
It's about meeting yourself where you are, not where you think you should be.
If "I am successful" feels impossible, maybe it's:
"I'm capable of trying."
If "I am loved" feels too far away, maybe it's:
"I'm learning to let love in."
If "I am happy" feels like a betrayal of your pain, maybe it's:
"I deserve moments of peace."
You're not lowering the bar.
You're not thinking small.
You're just being honest.
And sometimes, honesty is the bravest thing.
There are still days when affirmations feel like empty words.
Days when I say them and feel nothing.
Days when I skip them entirely because I just can't.
And I've learned that's okay too.
Because affirmations aren't a test you have to pass.
They're not a ritual you have to perform perfectly.
They're not proof that you're doing healing "right."
They're just one tool.
And some days, you don't need tools.
Some days, you just need rest.
I think we've been taught that affirmations are about changing our thoughts.
But maybe they're really about softening the voice that's been so cruel for so long.
Maybe they're about interrupting the loop, just for a second.
Maybe they're about planting something small and seeing if it grows.
Maybe they're about giving yourself permission to believe something different, even if you're not there yet.
Even if you never fully get there.
Even if belief comes and goes.
You don't have to feel it right away.
You don't have to say it out loud.
You don't have to write it in a journal or stick it on your mirror.
You can whisper it in the dark.
You can think it once and let it go.
You can try it on like a sweater that doesn't quite fit yet, and that's okay.
Because the point isn't perfection.
The point isn't even belief.
The point is just… opening a door.
Even just a crack.
Even just to see what's on the other side.
So if affirmations have felt wrong for you, I want you to know:
Nothing is broken.
You're not doing it wrong.
You're not too damaged or too cynical or too far gone.
You're just human.
And maybe the gentlest affirmation of all is this:
You're allowed to take your time.