Karl’s Story – A Journey of Returning to Self

There were years where I became very good at pretending I was fine. Years where I smiled, succeeded, stayed quiet, stayed busy. Years where I played the part I thought would earn me love.

Growing up in South Africa as a sensitive, queer child in a deeply traditional family, I learned early that being myself came at a cost. I was tolerated, not celebrated. Seen, but not really known. There was a lot of love — and also a lot of silence, shame, and gaslighting. My queerness was never named, just quietly buried under expectations I didn’t consent to.

By the time I reached adulthood, I had all the signs of a “good life”: a marriage, a business, a family. And yet, inside, I was vanishing.

The cost of performing someone else’s idea of worth became too high. In 2018, I reached a moment of such deep inner disconnection that I truly didn’t know if I could — or wanted to — keep going.

But I did. Somehow, I stayed.

And from that moment on, I began to slowly, painfully, beautifully unravel everything I thought I had to be — and started to return to who I actually was underneath. I walked away from a life that wasn’t mine. I cut ties with people who couldn’t (or wouldn’t) see me. I began to sit with the grief, the rage, and the numbness I had carried for decades.

There is no neat bow to tie around that journey. But I can say this:

If you are someone who feels unseen, unheld, or undone by life — you are not broken. You are not too much. You are not alone.

There is a slow kind of healing that happens when someone simply sits with you and doesn’t flinch. When no one tries to fix you. When your pain is met with presence, not platitudes.

That’s the kind of space I now choose to be part of — because I know how life-saving it can be. And because I’m still walking that road too, one honest breath at a time.

Written by: Karl Fox