I Don’t Owe Everyone Access to Me

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I used to feel obligated to reply. To be available. To answer messages, even from people who rarely made me feel seen or safe.

It felt like politeness. Or loyalty. Or guilt.

But it was costing me.

It took me years to realise: I don’t owe everyone access to me.

Especially not the ones who only reach out when they need something. Or who ignore boundaries. Or who leave me feeling smaller, not fuller, after a conversation.

Now, I honour that quiet voice inside—the one that knows when a connection doesn’t feel right.

I can care about someone and still choose distance.
I can love someone and still limit contact.
I can value peace more than I value being perceived as “nice.”

My energy is finite. My presence is a gift. And I’m learning to give it with discernment.

Not from fear.
From self-respect.