Finding Myself at the Foot of the Cross

Royal Congregation of San Isidro of Madrid

Socializing has never been difficult for my sanguine soul. Whether it’s a heart-to-heart or blending into a crowd, I’ve always drawn energy from being around people. As a kid, I was used to being dropped off at random soccer camps and conferences, forced to step out of my comfort zone to make friends.

But after college, something shifted. I started noticing a lingering shame and anxiety after social events.

“What did I just say?”“Why did I act like that?”“Why can’t I just be normal?”

Sure, we all have awkward moments or jokes that don’t land. But this wasn’t a one-time embarrassment. I began feeling like I wasn’t being me—like I had to shape-shift to earn acceptance.

In every interaction, I caught myself grasping for approval, overcompensating for imperfections, and desperately wanting to fit in. Yet, after these encounters, I’d walk away feeling empty and gross, as if I had left behind a fake version of myself.

I can remember sitting in prayer with stomach aches, reflecting on social situations and feeling like an imposter.

Who Am I?

In the midst of this anxiety, the Lord kept asking me the same question during prayer:"Who are you?"

I shrugged it off at first. By that point, I had been walking with the Lord for years. I thought I should know the answer. After all, I’d memorized the “right” Catholic answers from campus ministry and podcasts.

But the more I faced this question in prayer, the more I realized—I didn’t know.

So, I ran to my spiritual director, desperate for clarity. After I poured my heart out, she listened silently. Then, with a mix of tenderness and excitement, she pointed to the crucifix.

"I can’t tell you who you are, but He can. Let Him show you."

Letting Go of the Search

At first, I felt frustrated. I was praying constantly, going to daily Mass, reading every spiritual book I could find—why wasn’t He answering me?

Then I stumbled upon a quote by St. Catherine of Siena:"Leave it all to Him, let go of yourself, lose yourself on the Cross, and you will find yourself entirely."

As I read those words, my eyes fixed on the crucifix, and something in me shifted. The invitation became clear: Let go of your search and stay with Me.

I realized surrender wasn’t about word-vomiting all my problems to God and then moving on with my day. Before that moment, “giving my life to God” had meant cramming my schedule with Catholic activities.

But Christ was showing me that all my doing was keeping me from the intimacy my soul needed. Instead of handing my burdens to God and running off, I began to wonder—what would it look like to sit with Him in the mess?

Instead of placing my cross on His shoulders and leaving, what if I shared the weight with Him?

Christ, My Stability

Losing myself in the cross meant diving into the story of salvation—not as required reading, but as a love story that Christ wanted to continue writing through my life.

As I gazed at the crucifix, I began to recognize my wounds in His. There were no longer His wounds and my wounds—there were our wounds. It wasn’t just me, myself, and I—it became we, us, and ours.

Suddenly, the cross wasn’t just something I prayed before. It became my anchor.

Rooting my identity in the cross kept me grounded when life’s seasons and social circles shifted. No matter how circumstances changed, I belonged—right next to Christ.

His love steadies me, reminding me that I am not defined by fleeting moments or insecurities.

I may not always know how to answer the question “Who am I?”—but I know where I belong.

At the foot of the cross.

This post was originally published for Radiant magazine, an online publication of Our Sunday Visitor. Since Radiant is no longer actively publishing, contributors have been invited to share their articles on other platforms.