Are You Growing, or Just Getting Better at Hiding?
There’s something undeniably compelling about the pursuit of growth—the thrill of signing up for the race, starting a new habit, mastering a new skill, and convincing ourselves that we’re stepping into a fuller, better version of who we’re meant to be.
We all recognize that familiar pull, that inner voice whispering that now is the time to finally get it together, to become more capable, more… complete. But what we rarely talk about is the quieter, more hidden motivation that sometimes sits behind our pursuit of growth—the part of us that isn’t reaching for expansion, but rather for protection.
Because sometimes, what looks like self-development is really just self-concealment. We don’t mean to, but we use learning not to express who we are, but as a tactic to hide the parts of us we don’t want to confront. The fear of not being enough, of being exposed, of being seen too clearly—those fears can quietly drive us toward achievement that feels impressive on the surface, but hollow underneath. It’s incredibly tempting to build layers of expertise over our insecurities, to bury our self-doubt beneath endless credentials, or to over-function in the hope that no one, including ourselves, will notice the soft spots we’re trying to protect. We become masters at our craft, eloquent in conversation, endlessly productive—and yet, we remain quietly unsettled, because deep down we know that none of it is really healing the fear we’re still carrying.
And that’s the thing about fear—it doesn’t dissolve just because we’ve learned how to work around it. The more we try to outgrow our fear without actually facing it, the more we end up reinforcing it. It’s not about layering on more skills to feel safe—it’s about peeling back the layers of performance and perfectionism so we can meet what’s real. Because when growth is motivated by fear, it becomes a form of avoidance, and avoidance—no matter how productive it looks—always keeps us stuck.
But when we’re willing to ask the harder questions—questions like “What am I afraid of?” or “What pain am I trying not to feel?”—we create the possibility for a different kind of change. A kind that’s less about becoming impressive, and more about becoming whole. This path isn’t always shiny, it doesn’t always come with certificates, or applause—and that’s okay.
Because real growth—the kind that frees us—isn’t about covering up what hurts. It’s about listening to your inner voice, sitting with it long enough to hear what it has to teach us, and choosing to grow not because we feel like we’re not enough, but because we’re finally willing to face our fears. Growth should complement who you are and not compensate for your shortcomings.
So, keep learning, keep showing up, and let your growth come from a place of courage and honesty.
Until next time,
Scott & Lennart