When Home Is Within: a Wild in the Hollow Guest Post from Mandy Mianecki


In the latest offering to the Wild in the Hollow Guest Post Series, Mandy Mianecki writes something brave for us. I am a fighter, but on a few pivotal occasions I’ve been frozen as well. I wonder if you’ll identify. At least one in five of us will identify with Mandy if the stats are correct.

It’s an honor and a real encouragement to have her story here. Please welcome her!


The mid-June sun shone down amidst clear skies. Lilies, stephanotis, and roses, all snow white, mingled with ivy in the cascade of my bridal bouquet. Five bridesmaids surrounded me, arrayed in butter-yellow chiffon. They clutched bursts of lilac and fuchsia alstroemeria, lemon-yellow roses, and fire-orange lilies the size of ripe grapefruit—exactly as I’d pictured it.

The day flowed flawlessly. Guests ooh-ed, ah-ed, and congratulated. Vows, hugs, songs, prayers, and toasts punctuated the day. Both sets of parents contributed generously. In many ways, it was a dream day.

And yet for much of it, I felt frozen. I’d blame it on an introvert’s nightmare of being the center of attention, but it was more than that. I subconsciously questioned: What do I say to all these people? What am I supposed to be doing? How do I act? Who am I supposed to be today? What is expected of me?

Though the day was scripted—what I’d wear, when I walk down the aisle of my childhood church, the words of my vows, who was in photos, special dances at the reception—there was an overwhelming sense of not knowing who I was in the midst of it.

They say fight, flight, or freeze…and I froze. To cope, I froze. While going through the motions of the whole outwardly beautiful day, internally, I braced myself against waves of fear and anxiety.

It was not a new mechanism for me

~ ~ ~

The fluffy recliner was a worn, maroon fixture in his living room. The footrest flipped up, and the spot was coveted—a prime TV-watching location. Parked there, my eyes glued to ABC’s TGIF line-up on channel 7, my eleven year-old self was happy, innocent.

Until he entered the room, a supposed protector. He approached the fluffy recliner, leaned down, and with one brief touch, triggered the freeze response that would grip me far into my adult life.

What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? It became my refrain from that moment, my automatic thought.

That touch, the ones that followed, and the aftermath on confrontation shrunk my world. Shredded my self-worth. Safety vanished, leaving a terrifying world in which I was never good enough.

Perfectionism and people-pleasing drowned my pain and stifled my identity. As a child, approval by teachers, coaches, parents, and authorities became the measure of my worthiness. When I succeeded in their eyes, I was worthy. When I got cut from the softball team, failed to make student council, or got a B or C on an assignment, well I just wasn’t cutting it. I was simply deficient and needed to try harder.

There was one right way to do things. To be okay, I needed to execute that one way. As an adult, that mindset led me straight into legalism. A + B + C = salvation. Follow the church’s teachings, and gain God’s favor and eternal life.

Still, I begged God for confidence. For success. For the ability to forgive my abuser. When none came, I resigned myself to this being my “normal.”

Freezing kept the pain out, but it blocked joy too: joy from compliments, friendship, adventure, my wedding day.

~ ~ ~

The day my world shifted remains etched in my memory. I pedaled leisurely on the stationary bike at Snap Fitness, engrossed in Joyce Meyer’s memoir, Beauty for Ashes. In it, she tells her own story of abuse, forgiveness, and healing. It shocked me to learn that a person could thrive after being abused, that actual healing and subsequent joy exist. That brokenness is not a life sentence of being shackled to a dark history.

But I didn’t see how I’d ever get there.

I’d already taken the concrete steps of severing my relationship with my unrepentant abuser. I’d actually mustered some courage to look into my woundedness with counselors to see what was really there.

Those were necessary and helpful steps, but the heaviness of shattered self-worth and gripping anxiety lingered.

They lingered until I opened my heart to some voices outside the legalistic ones I had allowed to box me in. There’d been no room for messy, and I was surely a mess.

Gentle whispers of truth came through writers and their communities. Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts led me to Renee Swopes’ A Confident Heart, which led me to (in)courage and Holley Gerth’s You’re Already Amazing, which led me to my tribe.

I became a freedom writer. In creating a blog, each new post released toxicity from my spirit, and that’s when I heard it: I can’t earn God’s love or my salvation.

God loves me no matter what. Right now. Just as I am. Madly.

My abusers actions had convinced me I was worthless. Person after person in the aftermath of the abuse unknowingly communicated that it was too difficult to stand up for me. I internalized that as my not being worth it, my being too much to handle. But, in a moment of prayer free from legalism, I distinctly understood it:

Jesus stood up for me. Not in a syrupy-sweet, Jesus-is-your-best-friend, spiritual Band-Aid sort of way. He pressed it into my spirit. Jesus didn’t run from Gethsemane when He wanted out. He took my pain, blow by blow, to the cross. He redeemed each wound I endured through the years.

That understanding was like laying a new foundation, brick by brick, filling me with grace, and empowering me to press on.

The Christian blogging community modeled these ideas for me. They reached out in tender care to a heart so broken, I couldn’t discern who I was or what voices to listen to. Online conversations turned into phone conversations, which turned into meetings in person though conferences, retreats, and good old fashioned coffee dates.

This was Jesus with skin on—people who saw me when I couldn’t see myself. They walked with me in the midst of my mess with no judgment or condemnation. They listened to the hard words of my story without flinching or running way. They stayed. They loved me. That love—the love of Jesus through them—initiated the unfurling of more layers of healing.

In the new journey of finding my voice, telling my story, loving myself, and reaching out to others in pain, I discovered that home is embracing the person God created me to be and resting secure in His love.

~ ~ ~

Mandy Mianecki is a wife and mom of four. She is passionate about encouraging others in their healing journeys from brokenness into wholeness, in uncovering their unique kind of God-breathed brilliance, and in living in the freedom won by Christ. A God-sized dreamer, art maker, lover of all things turquoise, and Nutella-eater, Mandy also runs an essential oil business, blogs at mandymianecki.com, and is a contributing writer for God-sized Dreams. Follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

Photo credit: photosteve101 via Flickr

“Pushing the envelope in a breathtaking and marvelous way, she brings to the surface that which often remains unspoken in church communities. Amber writes of very real experiences that cause very real pain that occur in the lives of countless very real Jesus followers” (from Catherine Arnsperger’s Amazon review of Wild in the Hollow.)

“Nobody writes like Amber C. Haines. I’m telling you–even the acknowledgements contain nuggets I want to never forget. She writes beautifully and vividly and honestly” (from RMMcDowell’s Barnes & Noble review of Wild in the Hollow.)

It’s not my favorite thing in the world to share lovely things said about Wild in the Hollow, but I do believe our stories are worth sharing. I want to encourage you to do your art well and to share your story with honesty. Thank you for supporting me, Mandy, and others like us whose stories can be windows into real pain and into the very real goodness of God.

 For other posts in the Wild in the Hollow Guest Post Series, click here!
About me


Where Healing Begins: a Wild in the Hollow Guest Post from Sarah Jo Burch
November 23, 2015
Dear Seth: A Marriage Letter on Your Sobriety and What it Looks Like to Come Clean
October 27, 2015
Learning to Bend: A Wild in the Hollow Guest Post from Diana Trautwein
September 14, 2015
Who are you, really?
January 27, 2014
It is My Passion That You Know This
January 08, 2014
At the Crux
September 02, 2013
Poor and Powerless: My First Time to Speak
April 17, 2013
Let the Game Changer Change the Game: Part 1
April 10, 2013
Covered Chains
November 01, 2012


Christine Wright
Reply November 2, 2015

Mandy, how I love your words here! You have a special gift, writing the words that lead people to freedom. May God bless you as you continue to walk that path!! Love you, friend.

    Reply November 2, 2015

    Thank you so much, Christine! Your words and friendship mean so much to me. Love you!

Alecia Simersky
Reply November 2, 2015

Thank you for your words and the image I have now of Jesus standing up for me, for you when no one else does. Forgiving when it's hard, that's something I'm still working on. I pray you continue to write, "to set the captives free." You are a gift and a gifted writer. Bless you sweet friend.

    Reply November 2, 2015

    Alecia, that image of Jesus was truly a breakthrough for me, so powerful. I'm so glad it helps you too! Forgiveness is such a hard one. It helps for me to realize that it is as much for me as for the other person. It's a daily choice too, not a one-time thing. Thank you for being here today! Xoxo

Kelli Stuart
Reply November 2, 2015

Mandy, this was not just beautifully written, but it was beautifully brave. Thank you for sharing your journey, and for walking us all into your healing. This post was a gift.

Reply November 2, 2015

So grateful to have you stop in, Kelli! I appreciate your kind words and encouragement.

Meredith Bernard
Reply November 2, 2015

Mandy, Your words leave me hopeful and inspired. I need the reminder that God really does bring beauty from ashes - and no matter where our ashes comes from, He alone can and will redeem them for His glory. You’re a beautiful, brave blessing. Thank you, friend. <3

    Reply November 2, 2015

    Thank you, friend! So many people in the depths of pain don't know that there is hope--I used to be one of them. Such a critical message to share. Humbled to share it.

Kaitlin Curtice
Reply November 3, 2015

Mandy, your story is so much of mine, except my need to keep people approving of me stemmed from my dad leaving our family when I was 9. So I've lived a life of trying to keep God proud of me enough that He wouldn't get up and leave, and my friends thinking well enough of me that they won't get up and walk out when I haven't done it right. May our hearts be forever turning, day after day, to the truth of God's full, abundant, always present and always healing grace. Thank you for sharing your story.

    Reply November 3, 2015

    Sweet, beautiful Kaitlin: may you be overwhelmed with a fresh understanding of how deeply you are known and cherished by your Father, just as you are. Thank you for sharing your story. The healing is a lifelong process--prayers and blessing for you as you press on. Proud of you!

Mary Gemmill
Reply November 3, 2015

Mandy, I found this story riveting and rejoice with you that you have found your tribe now, and in writing you encourage and bring hope to others who have suffered much and felt unworthy. I new friend shared her heart with me this week about how unworthy she has felt all her life, and I am going to share this testimony with her, that it might show her it is possible in Christ to move past what have seemed to be impassable obstacles. Your blog always blesses me, and I thank God for all he has done in your life and for all the lives He will touch through you.
God bless you my friend, more than you could ever imagine.


    Reply November 4, 2015

    You are so, so kind, Mary. Thank you! I'm so grateful God saw fit to cross our paths. I humbled that my words can bring some hope and encouragement. For a long time, I didn't believe there was healing, but I now know differently! Prayers for your new friend. She is blessed to have you. Blessings, Mary! XOXO

work long
Reply December 18, 2015

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