The Healing Journey of Hiking: Letting Go to Find Yourself Again

Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything.

Maybe it’s about unbecoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can finally be who you were meant to be in the first place.

And yes, I know what you’re thinking—there she goes again, spiraling into all that reflective crap nobody asked for. But hey, you take the good with the bad, so sit right back down and hear me out.

If, like me, you found hiking later in life, this will definitely resonate.

Life happens. We adapt—or we wither. We morph into whatever version gets us through: caretakers, breadwinners, emotional support humans, mildly bitter cynics (okay, maybe that’s just me), stress-saturated desk trolls just trying to make it to bedtime without unraveling.

And then, if we’re lucky—really lucky—we stumble into the hiking community. We lace up our boots, hit the trail, and if we squint hard enough to ignore the fact that we’re sweating through our eyebrows, gasping for air up a climb, and questioning why we thought a 10-kilometer “moderate incline” would be spiritually enlightening… something starts to shift.

Hiking Helps You Shed Society’s Expectations

Hiking isn’t always about “finding yourself.” Sometimes, it’s about losing the current version of you—the one shaped by expectations, and the exhausting illusion of having it all together.

It’s about shedding the noise. Peeling back the layers of performative nonsense. Letting go of who you had to be… so you can remember who you actually are.

So no—you’re not “becoming.”

You’re unbecoming.....the over-stressed, anxiety-fueled, emotionally fried version of yourself that society required, just to survive that one (endlessly exhausting) chapter.

And in its place? A sun-damaged, trail-weary, blissfully authentic version of you. The version that starts to feel like the real thing again.

And if you keep hiking, you will slowly start becoming that person again.

Not All Who Wander Are Lost—Some Are Just Unbecoming

Because the trail doesn’t give you answers. It just gives you the space to remember the questions that actually matter. And honestly? That’s what's important.

See you out there—sweaty, sunburned, and slowly unbecoming.