The Void, The Narcissist, and The Breakthrough: How Jesus Healed What I Kept Trying to Fill
By Sherita Jones | The Anointing Grace
There was a time in my life when I walked around empty, broken, and wearing a mask so well you’d think I had it all together. Smiling on the outside, dying on the inside. Trying to survive cycles I didn’t even realize I was trapped in. A void lived in me, deep, hollow, aching. And I tried to fill it with everything the world said would make it better.
I’ve always been different. Sensitive. Deep. A little too “much” for some people and not “enough” for others. Somewhere along the way, I learned how to dim my light just to fit in. I learned how to hide behind fake laughter, shallow friendships, and choices that only left me emptier than before.
Partying became my escape.
Smoking became my crutch.
And on occasion, I would turn to ecstasy for that temporary high, that fleeting moment of relief from the pain I carried so long it felt like a part of me. I didn’t realize it then, but I was desperately trying to silence the void. That gaping ache inside of me was screaming for help, and I thought I could quiet it with the noise of the world.
But here’s the truth:
You can’t party away your brokenness.
You can’t smoke away your pain.
You can’t drink, dance, laugh, or numb your way out of the void.
Because the void isn’t there to torment you.
It’s there to point you to Jesus.
The pain I carried wasn’t just from adulthood, it traced all the way back to childhood wounds, from rejection, betrayal, things said and things left unsaid, abuse in innocence. Trauma I buried deep beneath fake smiles and survival mode. Grief I thought I had to carry alone. And when you don’t know what to do with pain like that, you look for ways to escape it.
But escape only leads to deeper bondage. Especially when you’re broken, carrying unhealed trauma, deeply rooted emotional pain, and generational cycles you don’t even fully understand. In that state, you become a magnet for the very people who were never sent by God. Especially narcissists.
Ask me how I know.
Because I lived it.
When your heart is naturally wired to give, serve, love, and pour out, but your inner world is still fractured and bleeding from wounds no one can see, you attract people who take, use, and manipulate. They don’t come with healing. They come with agendas. And when you’re operating out of that empty void, it’s easy to mistake attention for love, control for care, and possession for protection.
I tried to fix the ache inside of me through relationships. I thought if I just found someone to love me right, the pain would quiet down. The thoughts would slow down. The cycles would break. But brokenness attracts brokenness. And predators know how to spot an open wound.
I dated someone for almost 30 years on and off who didn’t mean me any good. I had discernment, oh yes, I saw the red flags. I knew in my spirit something wasn’t right. But I felt stuck. Like something invisible was keeping me chained to dysfunction, unable to break free no matter how many times I tried. Even when someone good would come along, I would self sabotage.
So, I would try to numb the void even more.
More attention.
More compromise.
More pretending I was okay.
More lowering my standards just to fit in.
More of partying, clubbing, drinking, smoking, and substance abuse.
More of anything to escape the ache of my own broken heart.
But the truth is, the void wasn’t meant to be filled with people. It wasn’t meant to be filled with drugs, parties, sex, shopping, or distractions. It wasn’t even meant to be filled by success or good works.
The void was meant for Jesus, and Him alone.
Until I surrendered to Jesus and embraced the process of healing, and healing for real, biblically. I kept attracting what mirrored my unhealed wounds. I stayed in cycles of rejection (rooted from childhood), heartbreak, manipulation, and self abandonment. The enemy knew exactly what doors my brokenness left wide open.
But the moment I surrendered, truly surrendered Jesus stepped in.
He didn’t just fill the void.
He healed the void.
He showed me why I allowed people access to me who couldn’t love me and didn’t have the capacity to do so. He showed me why my boundaries were weak. He showed me why my discernment couldn’t save me if my heart wasn’t healed.
He showed me the truth:
“You are not hopeless. You are not unlovable. You are not stuck.”
What I thought was just “bad luck” was really an intentional spiritual battle rooted in my past, my trauma, and my unhealed identity. The more I let Jesus work in me, the more I recognized my worth. And when you know your worth in Christ, narcissists can’t access you anymore. Manipulators lose their power. Takers get blocked before they even get close.
Jesus taught me how to love from a place of wholeness, not desperation to fill a void. He taught me how to give with wisdom, not wounds. He taught me that real love doesn’t drain it edifies, protects, honors, and points you back to Him.
The void I kept trying to fill with the world, with substances, with distractions? It’s now overflowing with His peace, His presence, and His promises.
The peace I chased for years, I found in His presence. The love I thought didn’t exist, I found in His arms. The security I longed for, I found in His promises.
No drug, no drink, no party, no person, no possession can do what Jesus did in me.He filled every empty place. He healed wounds so deep I forgot they existed. He restored my identity and showed me who I really am in Him.
I share this because someone reading this is still wearing the mask. Still dimming their light. Still trying to fill the void. And I want you to know:
You don’t have to anymore.
The void was never meant to destroy you. It was meant to lead you to the only One who can fill it, Jesus.
If He did it for me, He can do it for you.
The healing is real. The peace is real. The joy is real. But you have to let Him all the way in.
No more masks. No more running. Just Jesus.
Healing is a process.
There’s a process to healing.
There are valleys you will walk through that will expose every root and every bad root.
But God is faithful to uproot what needs to go and plant His truth in its place.
You don’t have to stay in survival mode. You don’t have to keep repeating the same heartbreak. You don’t have to keep giving from a place of emptiness.
Let Him fill the void. Let Him heal the root.
What He did for me and still doing for me, He longs to do for you.
