Dangerous for Good, Part 2: IdentitySample

Day 2: Excavating the Wounds

We have all been shaped by our experiences—especially in our formative years. And whether we realize it or not, we have each constructed a version of ourselves, a false self, to navigate life. We call it our personality, but often, it is not our true self at all. It is a mask, a response to wounds, a strategy for survival.

The false self takes many forms. For some, it looks like being the life of the party—loud, funny, always in control. For others, it looks like withdrawing, keeping the peace, avoiding conflict. Maybe it manifests as perfectionism, aggression, or performance. But no matter its shape, the false self is constructed early on to do one thing—to keep us safe.

But safe from what?

The answer lies in our wounds.

A wound is a moment in our story that produces feelings of guilt, shame, fear, rejection, or diminishment—especially when there was no one to advocate for us and offer care, truth, and comfort. Some wounds are obvious, seared into our memories. Others are subtle, more like a slow erosion over time. Some, we don’t even remember.

When I was about seven years old, a message began to take root in my heart: my feelings don’t matter. No one sat me down and told me this outright. Instead, it came through a thousand small moments, when my parents were too busy, or an expectation was placed on me that I had to be strong, helpful and useful. My father, confined to a wheelchair, needed help and care, and so I learned quickly that my job was to put aside what I felt and just get things done for him and for others.

As a result, a vow formed in my heart: if I can be helpful, if I can come through, then maybe I’ll be seen, valued, and loved.

Beneath it all was a deep-seated fear. Fear of being unseen, unneeded, unloved. Fear that maybe the lies I believed about myself were true.

The truth is that we all carry wounds. Some have suffered deep trauma—abuse (sexual, emotional, physical, spiritual), abandonment, and violations of trust. Others may struggle to pinpoint a wounding moment, dismissing your pain because “it wasn’t that bad.” But let me tell you something I once heard from a friend: your heart doesn’t compare trauma. It only knows what it has experienced. Comparison leads only to inferiority or superiority, and neither are useful. Your story and experience are uniquely yours, and what happened to you matters.

And the enemy of our hearts is a master at using these wounds against us.

Michael Thompson writes in The Heart of a Warrior Journal Workbook, “Every man has believed lies about who he is and who he is not. The lies come at him through judgments, criticisms, and pronouncements in life’s wounding moments.”

The false self—the mask we wear—is built upon these wounds. It keeps us from experiencing the full, free, abundant life Jesus promised (John 10:10). It keeps us locked in patterns of hiding, proving, and fearing.

But Jesus doesn’t want us to live behind masks. He calls us into truth. Into healing. Into freedom.

Healing begins with awareness. It begins when we stop running, stop numbing, stop avoiding, and instead ask the hard questions. The good news is, we don’t have to excavate alone. Jesus is with us. He always has been. And He longs to lead us into the truth that will set us free.

As you reflect on all this with God today, consider asking Him:

Father, what wounds first taught me it was safer to hide?

Jesus, where were You in the moments I felt unseen, unneeded, or unloved—and what do You want to say to me now?

Holy Spirit, what mask do you want me to lay down today—and what truth about my identity are You inviting me to believe instead?