This is Part One of my Rewilding: Becoming Me series.
What Rewilding Means To Me
One evening, I stumbled upon the term rewilding while scrolling through my phone. I was intrigued at first, until I realized it was mostly used as a buzzword about reconnecting with nature. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to see rewilding as a powerful metaphor for spiritual renewal.
For me, rewilding isn’t just about nature. It perfectly describes the transformation I’ve been experiencing, a return to my true self, a reconnection with God after years of spiritual disconnection.
Rewilding, in this sense, is about shedding the weeds of shame, fear, and self-doubt that once choked my identity. It’s like being pruned and letting go of dead, overgrown parts so new life can grow in their place. The weeds have to go so that something fresh can bloom—wild and free, rooted in the life God always intended for me.
Where It All Started
My relationship with God began when I was twelve years old. My salvation experience was real and I knew it was real because I felt different.
Before I knew Christ, I was terrified of death. Fear crept in at night, in the silence, when the lights were off and my thoughts ran wild. But after I accepted Jesus, that fear subsided. Instead I found a deep, unexplainable peace.
Things were good for a while. I was active in church and growing in my faith until tragedy struck. My father was in a near-fatal car accident, and from that moment on, everything changed. I don’t know if the event itself caused the change or if it simply accelerated something already brewing inside me, but it deeply affected my spiritual life.
Suddenly, there was a void. And before I realized it, I was searching for someone or something to fill it.
Deep down, I believed that following Jesus meant life would be easier. I thought Christians were somehow exempt from pain and tragedy. When things got hard, it felt like God had broken an unspoken promise.
I stayed active in church, but beneath the surface, things got complicated. Doubt crept in slowly, so slowly I didn’t notice it at first. Church became more social than spiritual. I was going through the motions while something in me quietly unraveled.
I started making small compromises, choices that didn’t reflect who I truly wanted to be. I still wanted to follow Jesus, but there was a growing disconnect between my heart and my actions.
My perception of God was tangled up in false beliefs:
- That Christians shouldn’t suffer.
- That if I really followed Jesus, sin wouldn’t be an issue.
- That I had to be perfect to be accepted.
These lies were like weeds, growing unchecked and choking out my understanding of God’s grace.
Eventually, I lost touch with my true self. I wore a mask, thinking that was the only way to fit in. People seemed to prefer the masked version of me, and when the real me slipped through, it confused them. So I learned to hide.
Over time, the mask became my identity. The person I was created to be, faded into the background.
Losing Myself
As the real me faded, I became someone I didn’t recognize. The confident, funny girl I once was was replaced by someone fearful, anxious, and self-conscious.
I clung to the mask and buried the real me deeper. I actively suppressed her, convinced that she wasn’t safe or acceptable.
My faith didn’t grow, it stalled. I had moments of hope, but they were fleeting. The pull away from God became too strong, and eventually, I let go.
I thought that letting go of my true self would bring freedom and relieve the pressure. Instead, it brought brokenness, regret, shame, and bondage.
This spiral continued into adulthood. I was stuck in a loop I couldn’t escape, returning to unhealthy relationships, repeating the same mistakes, hoping for different outcomes.
I lost connection with myself and, in many ways, became adversarial with God.
I still prayed. I still went to church. I tried to stay connected. But my prayers felt like they bounced off the ceiling. I believed God was punishing me, that He was angry with me.
I believed I was a special case: too far gone for grace.
It was this belief that led me into the darkest days of my life. That season was a blur of confusion, despair, and intense anger.
Still, I kept praying.
But my prayers turned bitter.
I remember repeating this phrase over and over:
“You came so that we would live life more abundantly… yeah, right.”
When Things Began To Shift
I stayed in that dark place longer than I care to admit.
There wasn’t one dramatic moment of change. No lightning bolt. No voice from the heavens.
Instead, it was a slow, steady shift.
God began placing people and moments in my path like little breadcrumbs leading me home.
With each step, my anger began to fade. It was then, I realize that God wasn’t an accuser. He wasn’t keeping score.
He had been waiting. Watching. Protecting me.
Even when I crossed paths with danger, He never let it destroy me.
As I leaned into His mercy and accepted His grace, the pruning began.
God removed the false beliefs I had clung to for years.
He showed me that my destructive choices weren’t just rebellion, they were rooted in lies I had unknowingly lived by.
And then, He shined the light of truth.
He showed me my worth. My value. My belovedness.
Becoming Wild And Free
Today, my life looks nothing like it used to.
The girl I was is still a part of me, but she’s no longer in hiding.
2 Corinthians 5:17 says:
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.”
I experienced that newness as a child, but I lost sight of it.
Now, rewilding feels like a return.
Like nature reclaiming a space that was overrun by clutter and concrete, God has been reclaiming me.
The transformation hasn’t been fast. It hasn’t been loud. It’s been gentle, slow, and steady.
Rewilding is about letting go of everything that choked out my true self; the shame, the fear, the lies; and allowing God to grow something real and free in its place.
It’s about returning to the untamed, God-designed version of me.
It’s ongoing. Not a one-time event.
And God, the Master Gardener, is still tending, nurturing, and calling me back to truth.
Each day is another step toward the woman He always meant for me to be.
Wild. Rooted. Free.
Let’s Grow Together
Have you found yourself in a season of spiritual drift or wrestling with false beliefs?
If you’re on a similar journey of rediscovery and rewilding, I encourage you to check out my post on 5 Books That Changed My Life for more inspiration and guidance
I’d love to hear your story. Leave a comment, send me a message, or just know, you’re not alone.
Let’s grow wild and rooted together.
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