The Books That Brought Me Back to Myself

“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.” - Brené Brown, Daring Greatly

Introduction:

Just a few years ago, I was lost.

Not the kind of lost where you know you've wandered off the path and you're trying to find your way back. The kind of lost where you don't even realize you've left yourself behind.

I had become a stranger to myself. I lived, dressed, spoke, and oriented my entire existence around everyone and everything I thought I should be. Not who I was. Not what I needed. But what would keep the image intact, the approval coming, the performance flawless.

On the outside, I was living the dream: the perfect wife, the devoted mother, the good friend. But inside, I was sick. And I didn't even know it.

My home had become a prison. My relationships felt forced. Self-care wasn't about feeling good. It was about looking good, maintaining the façade, keeping all the plates spinning. The beliefs that held this life together were constructed entirely in my head, and they kept me captive in a beautiful, toxic place.

The Unraveling

Then something happened that cracked the illusion wide open.

A "friend", someone who had never felt easy or authentic to be around, suddenly cut me off. Completely. No explanation. Just... gone.

I still don't know why. And honestly? It doesn't matter anymore.

At the time, though, it felt devastating. I was 43 years old, and I felt like a middle schooler. I was completely derailed by the loss of someone I barely even connected with, someone I had almost nothing in common with.

The grief didn't make sense. But my body knew what my mind couldn't yet see: This rejection had touched something much deeper. A wound I'd been carrying for years. A pattern of abandoning myself to avoid being abandoned by others.

I got shingles. My health deteriorated. And finally, I couldn't ignore it anymore.

Something was very wrong.

Asking for Help

In May of that year, I walked into a therapist's office for the first time in my life.

I knew I wasn't okay. But even as I sat there, I struggled with the idea that I deserved to be taking up space in that room. Was I really worthy of her time? My problems weren't that bad, were they?

This, I would later understand, was part of the problem.

I only saw her a few times. But in those sessions, she gave me two things that changed the trajectory of my life.

First, she named something I'd never recognized in myself: perfectionism. Not just the drive to be perfect—but the self-sabotaging, punishing, relentless inner critic that told me I was never enough. That I had to prove my worth. That I couldn't rest, couldn't be messy, couldn't be human.

Learning to see this pattern, how I used it to hurt myself and to keep myself small, became one of the most important tools in my healing.

Second, she handed me a book: You Are a Badass by Jen Sincero.

I went home and immediately signed up for Audible. I bought copies for friends and family because I was certain everyone needed to hear this message.

My relationship with that book has evolved over the years as I've continued to grow and found other authors more aligned with my values. But I'm grateful for it because it gave me something essential: permission to start looking for myself.

I had so much self-doubt. I needed that kick in the pants. I needed someone to tell me I was allowed to want more, to be more, and to reclaim my life.

The Journey Back to Myself

In August of 2019, I started getting brave enough to share my struggles with people who felt safe.

My dear friend and esthetician asked if I'd read Brené Brown. She told me about a women's retreat that had changed her life.

I booked the retreat. And I dove into Brené's work. Then Pema Chödrön. Then Eckhart Tolle.

Over the past few years, I've discovered Glennon Doyle, Shefali Tsabary, Bessel van der Kolk, and so many others who have guided me back to myself through their own stories of getting lost and finding the courage to return.

Glennon's vulnerability around motherhood, worthiness, and the masks we wear allowed me to open up a part of myself I'd hidden for far too long.

Brené's ability to name every feeling of shame and not-belonging I'd ever carried and to help me understand that those feelings are universal, that I'm not broken, was nothing short of transformative.

Tolle's simple, grounding words about presence and mindfulness shifted how I move through the world, even in the hardest seasons.

Pema's teachings on sitting with discomfort, on not running from the hard feelings, gave me permission to stop performing and start feeling instead.

I am forever grateful for the authors—big and small, known and unknown—who are out there sharing their wisdom, their struggles, and their humanity with the world. Because their words helped me remember mine.

Found (But Still Discovering)

After years of reading, learning, and searching, I can say with confidence: I am found.

But here's what I've also learned: Finding yourself isn't a one-time event. It's a practice. A returning.

I still discover new (old) things about myself that I'd forgotten. Qualities I'd buried. Strengths I'd dismissed. Parts of me I'd left behind in order to fit into someone else's idea of who I should be.

The most recent rediscovery? How resilient I am.

I think we all forget our strength sometimes. Especially when we're tired, when we're lost, when we're being told—by others or by our own inner critic—that we're not enough.

But the strength is always there. Even at our weakest moments, it's with us.

An Invitation

In the weeks ahead, I'll be sharing some of my favorite books and authors. These are the ones that cracked me open, that held me through the hard parts, that helped me rebuild my sense of self from the inside out.

I'll talk about what I learned from them, what I continue to learn, and how I find new voices that resonate with where I am now.

But more than that, I want to create space for conversation. For connection. For the kind of honest sharing that helps us all feel a little less alone in our struggles and our growth.

If you have authors who've been companions on your own journey, who've helped you navigate divorce, loss, transition, or the quiet unraveling of a life that no longer fits, I'd love to hear about them.

And if you're interested, I'm thinking about starting a small book circle and choosing chapters or sections from some of these transformative texts and creating space to reflect, discuss, and grow together.

Because here's what I know now: We don't have to do this work alone.

The books helped me find myself. But it was the people—the safe, brave, honest people who met me in my mess and said me too—who helped me stay found.

I hope you'll join me.

References

[1] Brown, B. (2012). Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and ow: A Guide to Spiritual Enlightenment. New World Library.

[3] Chödrön, P. (2000). When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times. ShambhalaLead. Gotham Books.

[2] Tolle, E. (2004). The Power of N.

Leslie Mathews is a therapist, certified mindfulness practitioner, and former attorney who helps women heal after divorce, rebuild their identity, and reconnect with their inner wisdom. Through her trauma-informed, holistic approach, she combines emotional healing, nervous system regulation, and strategic divorce guidance to support women navigating life after loss. As the founder of The LooM Life and host of the Pulling Threads podcast, Leslie creates a compassionate space for transformation—helping clients unravel the shame, fear, and self-doubt that keep them stuck, and reweave lives rooted in clarity, confidence, and self-trust.