Your Wound Isn’t The End Of The Story

There’s a quote from Carl Jung that’s been on my mind:

“Our genius hides behind the wound.”

As I read those words, they reminded me of the countless hours I spent chasing success.

Not because I loved the chase, but because I believed if I ran fast enough, I could outrun my wounds.

For most of my life, I avoided the tender parts of myself—the insecurities, the shame, the fear of not being enough. I thought if I could achieve enough, those parts wouldn’t matter.

But here's the thing: the parts we avoid don’t disappear.

Sometimes they whisper, quietly steering our choices in ways we don’t even notice. Other times, they kick the door down and demand to be felt.

For me, it showed up in the moments where I felt like a fraud.

Like the time I was called “America’s Athlete” on live TV and all I could think was, If they really knew me, they’d see how broken I am.

I thought I had to fix the broken parts of myself to be worthy of the title, of the success, of belonging.

But what I didn’t realize back then is this...

Our wounds aren’t meant to be erased. They’re meant to be understood.

Because behind every wound is a gift—a deeper part of us waiting to be uncovered.

The fear of not being enough? That became the bridge to connecting with others on a deeper level.

The shame I carried? It taught me the power of showing up, allowing myself to be fully seen and experiencing the freedom that comes with it.

I don’t know what your wound is.

But I do know if you’re willing to lean in—to sit with the discomfort, to feel it fully—you just might find something extraordinary on the other side.

Yes, the parts of yourself you try to hide or avoid might actually hold the key to what makes you brilliant—unlocking a more satisfying and more fulfilling life.

Because the truth is, the parts of yourself you’ve labeled as “too much” or “not enough” are the same parts that hold your unique power, your strength, your brilliance.

It’s not about fixing yourself or becoming someone else.

It’s about learning to see those parts of you—the wounds, the doubts, the fears—not as obstacles but as invitations.

Invitations to heal. Invitations to grow. Invitations to step into the fullness of who you already are.

So if you’re tired of running, if you’re ready to stop avoiding the tender places, know this...

You don’t have to do it perfectly. You just have to begin.

Because leaning into those wounds?

That’s where transformation happens. That’s where you meet the truest, most powerful version of yourself.

And that’s where the world gets to see the genius that’s been inside you all along.

As always, I'm rooting for you. We're in this together.