What Is Lent Really About? Rediscovering the Meaning of Lent as an Adult

As a product of the Catholic Church, I grew up with a very superficial understanding of Lent. In my mind, it was all about the rules. The rules were clearly defined for us, and we knew the consequence of not following them—an unhappy God. There was little thought given to why we would choose to fast from certain things or any of the deeper implications of this season of repentance. Sacrifice was rarely discussed, and there was no focus on how we could use this season to become more aware of God and His presence in our lives. My understanding was largely superficial: we were told to give something up, or we would be unhappy.

During my teenage years, my traditional Lenten “sacrifice” was usually something mundane like soda, potato chips, or candy. While these things are unhealthy, I didn’t really consume them very often in the first place. In essence, my “fast” from these items was more about convenience and less about actual sacrifice. One of the few times Lent was discussed in our home was to tell me what I was giving up, not necessarily to teach me about the Catholic tradition behind it. My experience of giving something up for Lent was more about conforming to the norms of the season rather than truly observing and participating in it.

I often questioned the purpose of Ash Wednesday. Why was I letting someone put a cross symbol on my forehead with ashes and wear it all day? I was doing it because I was told to, and it seemed like everyone else was doing it too.

Eventually, I gave up trying to stop using profanity because I wasn't sure why I was trying to change in the first place. My attempt to swear less lasted into Day One, Day Two, and not quite Day Three. By Day Three, I looked up and said, “You made me. You know how I talk.”

Eventually, Lent became background noise—something other people observed while I quietly opted out.

What Is Lent? (The Real Definition Most of Us Never Got)

If you look up the meaning of Lent, you’ll find something like this:

• Lent is a 40-day Christian season of fasting, prayer, and reflection.

• It begins on Ash Wednesday and ends before Easter Sunday.

• It symbolizes the 40 days Jesus spent fasting in the wilderness.

• It’s meant to be a time of self-examination, spiritual growth, and preparation.

  
  

That’s the official definition—the one you’ll find in church bulletins and Bible study guides. But for many of us who grew up Catholic (or around Catholic culture), Lent was presented as a punishment season. A time to deprive yourself. A time to “prove” something.

But as an adult, I’ve started asking a different question:

What does Lent mean to me now—someone who hasn’t practiced Catholicism in years?

Every year when Lent rolls around, my mind goes straight to the same questions:

• What am I supposed to feel at the end of Lent?

• Am I giving up the “right” thing?

• Am I doing this for myself or because it’s tradition?

• Will God actually be mad if I don’t participate?

• Is there a makeup session if I start late?

• Can I do 20 days instead of 40?

• Does God have the final say in what I give, does He have to approve it?

• What if I mess up—is there a do-over?

• And what if I think of something to give up after Lent already started?

  
  

These are the questions I never got answers to as a kid. Honestly, they still pop up now. Here I am, in my 40s, days into Lent, wondering if I should’ve given up social media… or negative thoughts… or carbs. But let’s be real: those are not things I can give up cold turkey. That’s not sacrifice—that’s self-sabotage.

The Modern Meaning of Lent: A Season of Intention, Not Punishment

This year, something shifted. Not dramatically—more like a quiet curiosity. A gentle tug. I realized that maybe Lent isn’t about suffering or deprivation. Maybe it’s not about guilt or fear or checking a religious box. Maybe Lent is simply an invitation.

An invitation to pause. To reflect. To notice your habits. To reconnect with yourself. To create space for something new. To let go of something that’s been weighing you down. Not because God is keeping score. But because you might feel lighter if you do.

Maybe Lent is less about “giving up” and more about making room.

Observing Lent as an Adult (Without the Guilt)

So how am I to observe Lent as an adult? This year, I’m not giving up soda or candy or chips. I’m not pretending I’m going to stop cursing. I’m not setting myself up for a spiritual performance review. Instead, I’m choosing something that feels more aligned with who I am now:

I’m giving up the idea that Lent has to look a certain way.

I’m releasing the guilt. The pressure. The childhood fear that God is disappointed. The belief that spirituality only counts if it follows a rulebook. In exchange, I’m choosing more self-reflection, more intention, more awareness of my thoughts, more compassion for myself, and more space to grow.

And right in the middle of writing this—my rose quartz bracelet broke. If you know anything about rose quartz, it’s tied to love, healing, compassion, emotional balance, and heart-centered energy. Many people say that when a rose quartz bracelet breaks, it marks the end of an emotional cycle or the release of something you’ve been carrying.

So here I am, writing about healing myself, being gentler with myself, and creating space to grow… and my bracelet basically said, “Yep, you’re on the right track.” It felt like confirmation that the work I’m doing—internally and spiritually—is shifting something. I’ve been trying to let go of old habits and old fears, and maybe the bracelet breaking was a quiet reminder that some things really are falling away.

So, if I decide to release a habit, it’ll be because it serves me—not because I’m afraid of divine consequences. And if I decide to add something—journaling, prayer, meditation, quiet time—it’ll be because it nourishes me.

I may not follow traditional Catholic practices anymore, but I’m learning that Lent doesn’t have to be rigid. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t even have to start on time. It can simply be a season of intention—a season of noticing, choosing, and reconnecting with yourself in whatever way feels meaningful.

If that means giving something up, great. If it means adding something in, also great. And if it means doing nothing but thinking more deeply about your life… that counts too.

So, What Does Lent Mean to Me Now?

It means growth. It means reflection. It means permission to pause. It means choosing myself with intention. It means letting go of the guilt I carried from childhood. It means redefining spirituality in a way that fits who I am now—without fear, without pressure, without feeling like I’m failing some invisible test.

This past Ash Wednesday, I thought about finding a local church and getting my ashes because I hadn't done it in so long. I started to feel that I needed to show God that I still believed in Him and that I haven't strayed away. But then I thought, what would give God the idea that I have? Will this really show Him? Is this all I need to do to get back in His good graces? Am I out of His good graces?

I didn't go because I don't feel like I need to attend a ceremony to talk to Him.

And honestly? It means realizing that God isn’t mad at me. He’s not keeping score. He’s not waiting for me to fail or fall short or miss a day. He’s not tallying up my sacrifices like a spiritual report card.

He’s just glad I’m thinking, questioning, and trying to understand my own heart. Glad I’m growing. Glad I’m healing. Glad I’m finally learning that faith isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence.

And maybe that’s the real meaning of Lent for me now: not giving something up to prove my devotion but giving myself permission to evolve. To show up as I am. To trust that God meets me there—every single time.

Embracing the Journey of Self-Discovery

As I navigate this journey, I realize that Lent can be a beautiful time for self-discovery. It’s a chance to explore what truly matters to me. What do I want to let go of? What do I want to invite into my life?

This year, I’m focusing on self-compassion. I’m learning to treat myself with the same kindness I would offer a friend. When I stumble, I remind myself that it’s okay. Growth isn’t linear; it’s a winding path filled with ups and downs.

I’m also exploring mindfulness. Taking a few moments each day to breathe deeply and check in with myself has been transformative. It’s amazing how just a few minutes of quiet can shift my perspective and help me reconnect with my intentions.

Creating a Supportive Community

Another aspect I’m embracing is the idea of community. Sharing my journey with others can be incredibly uplifting. Whether it’s through conversations with friends or engaging in online communities, I find strength in knowing I’m not alone. We all have our struggles, and sharing our stories can foster connection and understanding.

This Lent, I’m committed to being open and vulnerable. I want to share my experiences, my challenges, and my triumphs. By doing so, I hope to inspire others to embark on their own journeys of self-discovery.

Conclusion: A Season of Growth and Renewal

In conclusion, Lent is no longer just a season of deprivation for me. It’s a time of growth, renewal, and self-discovery. I’m learning to embrace the journey, to let go of guilt, and to trust that I’m exactly where I need to be.

As I move forward, I’ll continue to ask myself what Lent means to me. I’ll explore my intentions, my desires, and my relationship with God. And I’ll remember that it’s okay to redefine what this season looks like for me.

So, here’s to a meaningful Lent—one filled with intention, reflection, and the courage to be true to myself. Let’s embrace this journey together, knowing that we’re all on our unique paths of growth and transformation.