Rediscovering What Lent Was Truly Meant To Be

Lent is often described as a season of prayer, fasting, and reflection, a time to quiet the noise and draw closer to God. But for a long time, Lent didn’t look like that for me. It wasn’t the peaceful, intentional spiritual journey people talked about. Instead, it became tangled with my insecurities, my environment, and the complicated relationship I had with my body.

Growing up, I could only manage one part of Lent’s expectations: prayer. Fasting felt impossible, not because I lacked discipline, but because I was fasting for the wrong reasons. I wasn’t seeking spiritual clarity or deeper intimacy with God. I was trying to lose weight.

And I knew it. I knew fasting wasn’t meant to be a diet plan or a socially acceptable excuse to starve myself. But I still did it, whispering silent prayers that God would forgive me, and I know He does. Yet forgiveness didn’t erase the shame I felt. It didn’t change the fact that I was using something sacred to mask something harmful.

Boarding school didn’t help. If you’ve ever lived in one, you know the unspoken rule: eat what you see, because you might not see it again. Meals weren’t about nourishment; they were about survival. And the only things allowed in the dorm were sugary, salty, carb-heavy snacks that filled your stomach but never your body’s needs. Dieting wasn’t realistic. Healthy choices weren’t available. So fasting became the only “option,” even though it was the wrong one.

During Lent, I would intentionally starve myself and call it fasting. If anyone asked, I had the perfect holy-sounding answer. But inside, I knew I was weakening my body on purpose, hoping that if I didn’t lose weight from not eating, maybe I’d get sick enough to lose it anyway. It’s painful to admit now, but honesty is part of healing.

As I’ve grown older, Lent has become a mirror, one I don’t always want to look into. Every year, as the season approaches, I feel myself slowing down, taking inventory of my intentions:

• Why am I fasting?

• Am I praying while I fast, or just depriving myself?

• What do I hope to gain spiritually?

• What am I truly giving up?

  
  

I’ve realized something important: I’m not really “giving up food.” Not in a spiritual sense. Food is too tied to my past, my insecurities, and the habits I’m still unlearning. So instead, I’m learning to give up something deeper, the fear that shaped me, the shame that followed me, the pressure I carried for years.

Maybe Lent, for me, isn’t about skipping meals. Maybe it’s about surrendering the parts of myself that keep me from God. Maybe it’s about letting go of the belief that my worth is tied to my body. Maybe it’s about choosing healing over old habits.

I’m still figuring it out. I’m still learning what fasting means when it’s done with the right heart. But I’m hopeful. I’m asking God to help me find a reason to fast that honours Him, not my insecurities. To strengthen my faith. To help me choose grace over guilt.

And maybe this Lent, that’s enough.

If you want, I can help you shape this into a more structured blog format with headings, add a stronger opening hook, or help you write a closing paragraph that ties everything together beautifully.

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