— Late October 2026

Written by Francine Van den Acker — Founder of SoulRise Global

We may know perfectly well who we are, yet our experiences still change the way we show ourselves to the world. We learn to reveal less of ourselves; we grow more guarded along the way, after moving through experiences, relationships and environments that failed to welcome, recognise or reciprocate what we offered authentically and wholeheartedly.

We may know our worth and be spontaneous, affectionate and generous, yet gradually become more cautious, more restrained and less inclined to reveal what we feel.

This can happen in love, friendship, family life or at work. Not necessarily because someone has wounded us deeply. It may be the cumulative effect of many small disappointments: conversations that never truly lead anywhere, enthusiasm met with indifference, relationships in which we felt we contributed more than we received. At other times, we may have felt undervalued, misunderstood or taken for granted, or remained too long in empty, unrewarding relationships that lacked reciprocity, curiosity and a genuine capacity to meet one another. This, too, can slowly dim something within us.

We also encounter people whose words and actions do not align: they appear close while behaving otherwise, seem supportive while diminishing us elsewhere, or turn insecurity, competition or jealousy into disloyal behaviour. Discovering that something very different lies behind a friendly face can inevitably make us more cautious about opening up and trusting.

And so we learn to show a little less of ourselves. An affectionate word remains unspoken, an idea that excites us is no longer shared, a sincere question gives way to a safer conversation. Not because we have stopped feeling or have nothing left to give, but because we have gradually reduced the space we allow our most spontaneous self-expression. Sometimes it is not even fear; it is the fatigue of repeatedly bringing the most alive parts of ourselves into places where they seem to find no room.

That is when it is worth asking: am I protecting myself, or am I preventing an authentic part of me from living?

How Spontaneity Is Lost — and Reclaimed

When we have held back what we feel for a long time, we can lose the habit of spontaneity. Our capacity to feel remains; what changes is the path between what we experience and what we allow others to see.

Where once there was a natural response, an internal check now intervenes: Can I say this? Will it be understood? Is it too much? Is it appropriate? Should I wait?

We begin to translate ourselves before we have even expressed anything. A sentence we want to say is made more neutral, an idea is withheld, enthusiasm is toned down, a position softened before it is voiced. A need remains unspoken because we have learned to manage on our own.

Over time, we may forget that spontaneity is not dependence and vulnerability is not weakness. I can say what I feel without asking the other person to feel the same. I can voice an opinion without making my worth dependent on its approval. I can say, “this hurt me,” without demanding that the person before me immediately share my interpretation.

This is mature spontaneity: the ability to express ourselves without turning another person’s response into a measure of who we are.

And it can be reclaimed. Not by forcing ourselves to become suddenly open, but by beginning with small truths: “I was glad to hear from you”, “I disagree”, “this moved me”, “I need some help”, “this idea excites me”.

At first, it may even feel artificial. That is natural: we are reawakening a capacity we have filtered for a long time.

Authenticity does not, however, mean exposing ourselves indiscriminately. It also means observing what happens when we show ourselves. When we are met with attention, respect and openness, we can relax. When every attempt to open up is met with dismissal, distance or indifference, that too tells us something about the relationship or environment we are in.

Another person’s spontaneity can even feel like permission. It can remind us that we may say what we feel without being judged or obliged to receive precisely the same response.

We do not necessarily need to relearn how to feel. We simply need to remember that we are still allowed to show it.

The Regret of What We Never Expressed

Among our most persistent regrets are not only the things we did, but also those we never found the courage to live, say or do.

An unspoken word, a withheld gesture, a proposal never made, a hidden feeling or a change endlessly postponed can remain with us far longer than we imagine.

Not because we know that everything would have turned out better had we acted differently. We cannot know that. Perhaps the person would have responded; perhaps not. Perhaps the project would have been welcomed; perhaps it would have failed anyway.

The deepest regret often arises from the feeling that we were not fully present in our own life.

We avoided the risk of rejection, criticism or disappointment, but in eliminating the risk we also eliminated a possibility. Not necessarily the possibility of obtaining what we wanted, but of being fully ourselves in that moment.

The question “what would have happened if I had said it?” will probably never be answered. Yet it can teach us something: continually withholding who we are has a cost. When we repeatedly choose not to speak, show ourselves or decide, we risk becoming spectators in our own life.

This does not mean promising ourselves that we will always say everything. It means deciding that, when something truly matters, fear will not always be the one to choose for us.

From Being Chosen to Choosing

Knowing our worth changes the vantage point from which we view the opportunities, relationships and environments we encounter.

For a long time, we may focus primarily on being chosen: by a person, an organisation, a group, even by our own family. At some point, however, we can begin to remember that we choose too.

The question is no longer only “will they choose me?”, but also “do I choose this?”. Does this work reflect who I am? Is this relationship good for me? Can I be authentic in this friendship? Does this environment make room for what I can do and who I want to become?

Being recognised remains important. We are relational beings, and pretending otherwise would be equally artificial. But we are not simply waiting for approval: we observe, assess, feel and choose.

Powerful attraction does not guarantee compatibility. Prestigious work does not guarantee fulfilment. A long relationship does not guarantee intimacy. A family bond does not guarantee understanding.

Knowing who we are allows us to stop asking only whether we are enough for what lies before us and to begin asking whether what lies before us is sufficiently aligned with who we are.

Being Remarkable Does Not Mean Being Perfect

This is where the words “I am a remarkable person” reveal their true meaning.

They do not mean believing that we are better than others or that we are always right. We can know our worth while knowing our shadows equally well. We can be strong and still feel afraid, competent and still make mistakes, generous and still have selfish moments, capable of loving and still have hurt someone.

Mature self-knowledge makes room for contradiction.

Perhaps the real shift occurs when we no longer need to idealise ourselves in order to love ourselves. We do not have to be impeccable to recognise our worth. We can fail at something without becoming a failure, lose a job without considering ourselves incompetent, or see a relationship or friendship end without concluding that we are incapable of forming meaningful bonds.

We may face superficial or hasty judgements from people who inevitably see others through their own fears, insecurities and limitations. We can consider those judgements without mistaking them for the truth about us: they often say far more about the person making them than about the person to whom they are directed.

What happens to us can teach us a great deal and may sometimes lead us to change. But it need not automatically become a verdict on who we are.

Do Not Diminish Who You Are to Fit In

Experience may make us more discerning and selective, but it should not teach us to reduce what is most alive within us.

If an environment failed to value our initiative, it does not mean we should stop having ideas. If someone did not understand our way of being, it does not automatically mean we should change it. If our sensitivity or spontaneity found no room in a particular context, it does not mean they are qualities to be corrected.

We can learn, adjust and choose more wisely without turning adaptation into an abandonment of ourselves.

Maturity does not mean becoming less visible, less sensitive or less engaged. It means understanding where who we are can be expressed fully, and where we are continually trying to enter a space that asks us to become smaller.

We can become more selective. We can observe more carefully, choose where to invest ourselves and recognise sooner the contexts that do not belong to us. That is maturity.

But choosing where to open up is profoundly different from closing ourselves off.

Protecting what is precious within us should not mean hiding it so completely that even we can no longer experience it.

I Know Who I Am

I do not want someone else’s lack of authenticity to make me less authentic. I do not want an uninspiring environment to persuade me that I have lost my enthusiasm. I do not want what failed to recognise me to teach me to express myself less.

I can feel, think, create, choose and express myself without turning other people’s responses into a measure of my worth.

I can express what I feel without turning it into a request for validation. I can stand by what I believe without needing everyone to understand it. I can be vulnerable without being dependent, autonomous without becoming impenetrable, selective without closing myself off.

And I can look at what I failed to express in the past without using it to punish myself. I can turn regret into a choice: next time, I want to be more fully present. I want to allow who I am the opportunity to emerge before fear edits it.

Perhaps knowing who we are means precisely this: being able to open without losing ourselves, protect ourselves without closing down, and change without betraying who we are.

I do not need to pretend I am receiving what I am not receiving. Nor do I need to pretend I do not feel what I feel.

I can look at reality, listen to myself and choose. Because that is ultimately where we recover our freedom: in the possibility of choosing, again and again, how we wish to inhabit what happens to us.

And that choice makes all the difference.

I know who I am.

And yes, I am a remarkable person.

What If These Words Resonate with You?

We do not always need to become someone else. Sometimes, what we need is to rediscover parts of ourselves that we have gradually learned to hold back.

RINASCI™ is an individual journey for those who feel that something in their life no longer fully reflects who they are and who want to begin choosing again with greater awareness, authenticity and freedom.

Not to reinvent ourselves from the ground up, but to return to living more fully who we already are.

Discover RINASCI™ →

Important Notice

This article is intended for information, personal development and reflection. It does not constitute medical, psychological or psychotherapeutic advice and is not a substitute for qualified professional care. For further information, please refer to our Terms & Conditions, section 3.5.