Hey friends, and welcome back to Unmasking the Heart for Change. I'm your host, Tammy Winstead, and today I'm here with you and I'm determined not to sugarcoat a thing. Have you ever had one of those moments where your soul just exhaled? Where everything you've been pretending not to feel suddenly demands to be felt? Yeah. Well, that was me and this episode, it's not just a confession, it's a release. Today I am sitting here raw and real peeling back the mask for one of the hardest truths I've had to face within myself, the fact that I'm not okay.
And now that I've spoken my truth out loud, if your heart quietly whispered, same. If you've been holding it all together with trembling hands, then friend, pull up a chair. This space, it's made for you.
Before we dive into the moment, I finally admitted I wasn't okay. I wanna tell you about something that happened this week. Something that felt like a full circle moment. I had branding photos taken for the podcast, and while planning the shoot, I told the photographer, I don't just want polished perfection. I want messy truth.
Because that's what this podcast is really about. Peeling back the layers, unmasking what's real behind the curated social media reels and making space for honest, unfiltered conversations. The kind that lets you exhale and simply be human. And friend, they took me seriously. There was hairspray flying, makeup smudged, lipstick blurred.
I look like I had just walked out of an eighties wind tunnel, and honestly, I loved it. It was messy. It was real. It was exactly what I needed. There was something deeply powerful and almost healing about seeing myself, stripped of the polish, looking into the eyes of the version of me that wasn't performing or trying to impress anyone. I had to be still and take it in that moment, stirred something in me, emotions I hadn't realized I was holding. And honestly, I needed that release. I needed to feel it and finally let it go.
Because that's the heart of this podcast. It's not about looking perfect. It's about being present. It's not about flawless delivery. It's about showing up flaws and all, and learning to value every part of the journey. Sitting in front of that camera, I had this quiet realization. I don't wanna keep chasing the version of me who looks like she has it all together. I wanna honor the version of me who's still figuring it out, and I wanna normalize the truth that it's okay to not have it all together.
That shoot reminded me how freeing it is to stop performing and just be. To unmask. To breathe. And to be fully seen even in the mess. And in that valuable hairspray filled moment, I thought to myself, this is what it looks like to grow outside of your comfort zone. And I'm so glad I gave myself freedom to just be.
Okay. So now that I've shared that with you, let me take you back for a moment. I was beginning to step slightly outside of my comfort zone, finally saying yes to the things I used to avoid. But let's be honest, I wasn't leaping boldly and I definitely wasn't acting freely. Nope. I had rules. Stipulations. I'll do this new thing. I told myself, but I will not do that. Line drawn. Boundary set. End of story. Until the very thing I said I'd never do, rang my phone. Loud and clear and I answered, Hmm. Isn't it funny like that? It was like the universe heard me and whispered, oh, really? You won't. Okay, bet. Watch this.
I remember being so frustrated after that phone call, like why would the very thing I said I did not want to do, be the thing that called.
And as I sat there frustrated and highly annoyed, it hit me. I was still wearing a mask. Yes, a mask made of control, of fear, of pretending I could grow on my own terms. But growth doesn't follow your rules. Healing doesn't stick to your schedule. Breakthrough that does not. RSVP.
Have you ever felt like you were so close to growth, but still too scared to stretch?
That was me, right on the edge. Still clinging to what felt safe, even when it wasn't serving me anymore.
And then it happened, huh? I broke. Not dramatically. Not publicly, just truthfully. I stood there tired, cracked open, undone, and whispered to the air. I'm not okay. Then louder and more fierce, I'm not okay.
And in that moment, freedom, not because I was fixed, but because I stopped faking it. I stopped shrinking my suffering to make it easier for others to be around me. I stopped masking, and in doing so, I started healing.
So back to my story. So there I was, home alone, just me and the dogs and a wave of truth crashing over me that I'm not, okay.
So now what? Well, friends, that moment of honesty cracked something open. And I knew I had to dig deeper. I couldn't just sit there with the feelings. I needed to understand what was feeding it. And for me, that meant journaling.
See, there's something sacred that happens when we write it down. We give our thoughts presence. We give our feelings permission to sit in the room with us. And when we read our own words back, we begin to recognize the patterns that pain has been tracing across our hearts. That's where healing starts. What I found in those pages, well. It changed everything for me.
See, life is changing for me, not slowly, not subtly, but at the deepest most identity shifting way possible. For the better part of my life, I've been a parent. That role has been my anchor, my identity, and my greatest joy. Being Drew and Ryleigh's mom. It's been the role I've poured everything into, and I've loved every single second of it, but now they're grown. They're thriving. They don't need me in that same way anymore. And that achy feel when your most sacred role evolves into something new. Yeah. That'll make you realize just how not, okay. You really are.
And then there's my health. I've been on this exhausting carousel of doctor visits, test waiting rooms, insurance approvals, chasing answers, clinging to hope, feeling stuck in a body that's not cooperating with anything or anyone. That alone can chip away at your sense of control. It wears you down and leaves you wondering if you'll ever feel like yourself again. Yes, that too makes you feel very not okay.
Next, I had to face the struggles of being a small business owner. Whew. If you know, you know, running a business in today's world is like building a house during a hurricane. You're holding on hoping that dream that started it all will survive the storm. To my fellow business owners. I see you. I am you. We're not okay. And that's okay. And to those who don't own a small business, check on the ones who do. Don't just like engage with them. Share their post. Buy from them. Speak life into their hustle. I promise you it matters more than you know. That's how we help one another. Keep going in these uncertain times.
Through all of this focus on everything going on in my life, I had to face another truth. My mind needed healing too. I've been holding it together for everyone else for far too long, stretching myself thin and wearing a smile that didn't match the ache inside. That's when I started revisiting my journals. Reading the lessons from therapy, the moments when I shined a light into my own shadows, my habits, my beliefs, my behavior.
It wasn't easy, but it was honest because here's the real truth I had covered. I was in functional depression. Living, performing, showing up all while breaking down on the inside. I smiled in pictures, nailed deadlines, and kept showing up while silently crumbling behind closed doors.
And the only person who could pull me out of it was me. And you know what? That's okay because I'm also the one who got me there in the first place.
Sometimes not okay looks like doing everything right and still feeling empty. Sometimes it looks like laughing at lunch and crying in the car on your way home. Sometimes it's forgetting what peace felt like. And sometimes it's pretending the ache isn't there until it's screaming so loud that you can't ignore it anymore. Not okay. Doesn't always have a look. It's not always visible, but friend, it's always real and it's always valid.
So I've unmasked my own reasons. Let me pause and turn this towards you for a moment. Friend. Are you okay? Not surface level okay, but deep down soul level, are you okay?
You know what, friend? If you're not okay, that's okay. Right here, right now, you have permission to not have it all figured out.
This world's been spinning on expert level for what feels like years now, and I myself have been trying to hit pause or find the easy mode for a long time. But my controller, it's either broken or lost or something. So until we find that switch, let's just sit here together, not okay. And yet both fully seen, fully human and still accepted and worthy of loving grace.
Now that we're both sitting in it, this real raw and not okay space. Can I confess something? Oftentimes in these not okay spots in life, I somehow always seem to find something to laugh about. Yes, I said laugh not 'cause things are funny. Not because everything's magically okay, but because sometimes laughter is how I let my heart exhale. It's not ignoring the pain. It's honoring the fact that I'm still here. I made it through something that thought it had me. I laugh at the stuff that tried to take me out. I joke through the mess. I giggle through grief. I laugh at the chaos. I joke about the breakdown. I find something, anything to smile about because that smile reminds me I'm still here and I still have joy inside me, even if I have to dig for it.
You see laughter. It's not a distraction. It's a reset. It tells my nervous system, you're safe now and you can breathe again. So if we laugh a little here together, let it be a sign.
We're healing, we're human, and we're doing the best we can. When we laugh, we shift our focus. We start to notice the beautiful parts of our world, and gratitude becomes the soil where healing takes root.
So as we sit here in this moment, let's say it's together out loud.
I'm not, okay.
Go ahead. I'm right here with you. Say it again. Louder.
I am not okay.
You just did something so brave because now we're not okay together, and that's where the healing begins. This is where we stop pretending. This is where we stop pushing through like robots, and this is where we start letting it out. So we can let healing begin.
Now that we've done the hard part of admitting we're not, okay, let's figure out the why.
What are you carrying right now that you've convinced yourself doesn't deserve space?
Is it a quiet ache you've buried beneath busyness?
A role you've outgrown, but don't know how to let go of?
A dream that's lost momentum?
Or a body that's asking for more care than you feel capable of giving?
Friend, healing doesn't start when we fix everything. It starts when we tell the truth. So ask yourself today, what have I been pushing down just to keep going and what would happen if I gave myself permission to pause to feel it? To write it down, and let it breathe.
Okay, so let me help you. If you're new to journaling, start with this. Write a letter to the version of you who's been pretending everything's fine. What would you say if you could give that version of you a break? Talk to that version of you like you're talking to a friend.
Or if that feels too hard, just start by writing this.
Today, I don't feel okay, but today I give myself permission to let the healing begin.
That alone is more than enough because it's honest, it's raw, and it's you being real with a one person who needs and deserves it most, you.
And friend, that's the first brave step toward healing because maybe that version of you that feels not okay. Is the very one that finally is ready to heal. And maybe just, maybe everything's not falling apart. Maybe it's all falling into place.
And if not, well huh? I sure hope I'm right here.
Friend, unfortunately. I don't have a 10 step plan to fix it all, but I do know this. Every time I tell the truth, the load gets a little lighter. Every time I laugh, I reclaim a little joy. And every time I unmask, I breathe a little deeper. And that my friend is enough for today and 100% worth it.
Well friend, thank you for being brave enough to sit with me today and say, I'm not okay. This space is yours, mine, and ours, and next time you feel like you're falling apart, I want you to remember this voice that told you it's okay, that you're not okay. You're not alone, and we'll get through it together.
If this episode met you where you are, share it with someone you love. Someone who needs permission to unmask to. Let's normalize the real. Let's laugh, cry, and breathe our way to healing together because this, this is what unmasking looks like. And guess what? It's all gonna be okay.
And if all else fails today, laugh at something. Even if it's the chaos, even if it's yourself. That laughter, it's not weakness, it's proof you're still alive. If no one has told you today, let me be the first, you're allowed to not be okay. You're allowed to pause. You're allowed to heal at your own pace.
Friend, before we close, I wanna leave you with this affirmation because yes, I truly believe that what we speak over ourselves matters. And while we'll unmask that truth even more in a future episode, for now, for now, I invite you to speak this one with me today.
Simply say: I might not be okay today, but I'm telling the truth. I'm giving myself grace, and I know I'm not forgotten. Today, I give myself permission to feel it all, to breathe and rest when I need to and to start again when I'm ready. And most of all, I know I'm not walking this road alone.
Friend, I'm so proud of you for unmasking this hard truth with me today. If you or someone you know has a story of change you'd like to share, I'd truly love to hear from you. Please sign up to be a guest by visiting our Facebook page or clicking the link in the show notes. Your journey could just be the inspiration someone else is needing to hear right now.
If you've enjoyed today's episode, I'd love for you to subscribe, share, and leave a review so more people can find us. And as always, if this spoke to your heart, send it to someone you love. That's how we grow here, and reach more stories out there waiting to be unmasked together.
Remember, friends change begins within and it starts one heart to heart at a time.
I can't wait to see you guys next time.
Thanks so much for being with me today. Bye.