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I used to think quiet automatically meant healing. That if I pulled back far enough, stayed silent long enough, I’d eventually feel better. But what I learned—slowly, painfully—is that not all quiet is the same.
For a long time, I told myself I was choosing solitude. I was overwhelmed, anxious, grieving, and exhausted, and retreating felt like survival. Canceling plans. Staying home. Not explaining myself. Protecting my energy. At the time, that story made sense. My nervous system was fried, and quiet felt like control.
But somewhere along the way, what I thought was solitude became isolation. At first, it did feel safe. It felt like relief. And then… it didn’t. The anxiety didn’t shrink—it grew. The loneliness crept in quietly. No one really knew what was happening in my heart, and I didn’t know how to let anyone in without my anxiety spiking.
What finally cracked things open for me wasn’t one conversation or one big breakthrough—it was time. And grief layered on grief. Losing my niece changed everything. I couldn’t hide anymore. I couldn’t minimize. And in that breaking open, therapy entered. God felt close again. And healing actually began.
Key Themes + Takeaways
Solitude and isolation can look the same on the surface, but they lead to very different outcomes
Isolation often feels protective at first, but it quietly feeds anxiety and loneliness
Talking, not hiding, is often where healing actually begins
Isolation doesn’t just block people—it can block intimacy with God
Solitude invites God in; isolation keeps everyone at arm’s length
Constant noise and distraction can be another form of avoidance
Healing requires presence, not numbing
Our Favorite Quotes
“There is no way around pain. The only way out is through it.”
“Isolation didn’t protect me—it made me lonelier.”
“Solitude is sacred. Isolation builds walls.”
“I wasn’t resting. I wasn’t healing. I was numbing.”
“You don’t have to disappear to heal.”
Chapter Markers
00:00 — When quiet feels the same, but isn’t
01:26 — Retreating as survival
02:53 — When isolation stops helping
03:20 — Loneliness and the cost of hiding
04:22 — Isolation and distance from God
05:16 — Grief that cracked everything open
05:46 — Solitude vs. isolation, clearly defined
06:39 — Distraction as disguised avoidance
08:12 — Choosing connection instead of disappearing
Your Turn
This week, take a gentle pause and ask yourself: Am I using noise to avoid what I’m feeling—or am I creating space to process it with God?
You don’t have to rush the answer. Just notice. And remember—you were never meant to carry this alone.
💛 Let’s Stay Connected
I really do mean it when I say: my DMs are always open.
✨ Got a story to share? A moment that hit home? Slide in anytime.
Here’s where to find me and go deeper:
Instagram → https://www.instagram.com/jessica_hustleandheartsalon/
Podcast blog → https://hustleandheartsalon.com/blog/
Salon home → https://hustleandheartsalon.com/
MB01PID7O8DOXAV
By Jessica MatteviI used to think quiet automatically meant healing. That if I pulled back far enough, stayed silent long enough, I’d eventually feel better. But what I learned—slowly, painfully—is that not all quiet is the same.
For a long time, I told myself I was choosing solitude. I was overwhelmed, anxious, grieving, and exhausted, and retreating felt like survival. Canceling plans. Staying home. Not explaining myself. Protecting my energy. At the time, that story made sense. My nervous system was fried, and quiet felt like control.
But somewhere along the way, what I thought was solitude became isolation. At first, it did feel safe. It felt like relief. And then… it didn’t. The anxiety didn’t shrink—it grew. The loneliness crept in quietly. No one really knew what was happening in my heart, and I didn’t know how to let anyone in without my anxiety spiking.
What finally cracked things open for me wasn’t one conversation or one big breakthrough—it was time. And grief layered on grief. Losing my niece changed everything. I couldn’t hide anymore. I couldn’t minimize. And in that breaking open, therapy entered. God felt close again. And healing actually began.
Key Themes + Takeaways
Solitude and isolation can look the same on the surface, but they lead to very different outcomes
Isolation often feels protective at first, but it quietly feeds anxiety and loneliness
Talking, not hiding, is often where healing actually begins
Isolation doesn’t just block people—it can block intimacy with God
Solitude invites God in; isolation keeps everyone at arm’s length
Constant noise and distraction can be another form of avoidance
Healing requires presence, not numbing
Our Favorite Quotes
“There is no way around pain. The only way out is through it.”
“Isolation didn’t protect me—it made me lonelier.”
“Solitude is sacred. Isolation builds walls.”
“I wasn’t resting. I wasn’t healing. I was numbing.”
“You don’t have to disappear to heal.”
Chapter Markers
00:00 — When quiet feels the same, but isn’t
01:26 — Retreating as survival
02:53 — When isolation stops helping
03:20 — Loneliness and the cost of hiding
04:22 — Isolation and distance from God
05:16 — Grief that cracked everything open
05:46 — Solitude vs. isolation, clearly defined
06:39 — Distraction as disguised avoidance
08:12 — Choosing connection instead of disappearing
Your Turn
This week, take a gentle pause and ask yourself: Am I using noise to avoid what I’m feeling—or am I creating space to process it with God?
You don’t have to rush the answer. Just notice. And remember—you were never meant to carry this alone.
💛 Let’s Stay Connected
I really do mean it when I say: my DMs are always open.
✨ Got a story to share? A moment that hit home? Slide in anytime.
Here’s where to find me and go deeper:
Instagram → https://www.instagram.com/jessica_hustleandheartsalon/
Podcast blog → https://hustleandheartsalon.com/blog/
Salon home → https://hustleandheartsalon.com/
MB01PID7O8DOXAV