Not Everyone Can Meet Me — and That’s Okay

There’s a quiet strength in setting boundaries — not to control or punish others, but simply to protect what I’ve fought to reclaim: my peace.

Lately, I’ve noticed something new.
People are respecting my boundaries — not necessarily because they deeply understand them, but because I’ve become so grounded in them that there’s no other option.

I no longer ask for permission to be myself.

And that’s powerful.
Still, I feel a flicker of guilt — but it’s not real.
It’s not mine.
It’s just the echo of old stories that said love means always being available.

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🤍 This Isn’t Rejection — It’s Alignment

One of the people I’ve drifted from isn’t a bad person.
He’s kind. Loyal, in his way.
But from what he shares, most of his relationships have crumbled because he isn’t emotionally available.

That tells me something important:

I’m not alone in feeling unmet.

So rather than chasing connection where there’s no real depth, I’m choosing something different now.

Reciprocity. Mutuality. Presence.

If I want to become more emotionally available — to my son, to a partner, to myself — then I need to invest in relationships where that kind of presence lives and breathes.

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🕊️ Letting Go Isn’t Cruel

It’s not hate.
It’s not bitterness.
It’s not even sadness, really.
It’s just a quiet, graceful letting go.

“You can’t meet me where I am — and that’s okay.
I still wish you well, from over here.”

This isn’t a dramatic exit.
It’s a soft door closing — not locked, but no longer open out of habit.

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🌿 Part of The Quiet Revolution

This moment is part of a bigger pattern:
The more I come home to myself, the less I tolerate being half-held.
And not because I’m cold — but because I’m finally warm within.

I don’t need to explain myself anymore.
I don’t need to perform connection.
I get to choose peace.

And if that means walking away from good people who can’t meet me —
Then I’ll walk gently, with self-respect in every step.

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