I've always known that people will do what's best for them. No amount of love or exchanged favors will change someone's intent. If I'm honest, most people don't give a f*ck about what you're going through; they're just glad it's not them. I have a genuine heart, and I've never been the type to hurt someone intentionally. If I can't help you win or improve, then I won't go out of my way to hurt you either. These last six months, I've lost friends, relationships, and my job. I was the reason I lost all those things—my demise was my fault. Not in the way you're thinking. I was at the end of my knife because I let people with NO boundaries cross the boundaries, I had set for myself. I allowed people who don't know themselves to make me feel inadequate.
Some of the very girls I mentored were the reason for my job loss. I started that mentorship with the vision to improve the self-worth that I see diminishing year after year. I planted the seeds for some girls (my daughters), and they're doing the watering now❤️. They're genuinely putting in the work to love themselves even if the world doesn't. However, I have no love lost for the same little girls who don't realize their power. They pushed me to get out of an environment that hindered my growth and produces no fruit of value. As an educator, my career is consistently about growing and learning. Yet, you can't do that in an environment filled with small minds and people walking shackled in a false "truth." I've always been comfortable with who I am. I realized that can be intimidating to people still trying to figure out who they are. I spent two years in an environment that sexualized me. I had to sit through the various rumors about my sex life and be questioned about how I could do things financially. It took me being on leave to realize that I needed a bigger pot to grow. My pot had cracks, and my roots required space. I was trying to stay planted in a place where people had already established their roots. They had no desire to move to bigger things; that environment was their final planting spot.
I saw my relationships (platonic and romantic) change as well. The very people that I loved weren't the people I resonated with. The things that I once allowed before made me uncomfortable. I saw that people don't want to be accountable. Some of my "friends" were comfortable with being the victim. Life was easier when they didn't have to be called out on their shit. However, when your shit starts impacting my life—CUT.
At my big old age, I'm not into changing the way I operate to accommodate people's bullshit.
I don't want friends who want my life. I don't want friends that don't challenge me to be better. I refuse to have friends that think my every move is a competition to be better than them. I want friends who genuinely don't mind me excelling in other aspects. It made me realize that certain people loved me if I wasn't close to achieving something they hadn't or if I didn't question their intentions. Once I called them out on those things, they began to disappear. Those people were never my friends—just placeholders. At one point, they were good friends to me, but now they were taking up space for people that were aligned for my higher calling. I accepted that everyone couldn't go with me, and some people are why you aren't going. Does that make them bad people? Does that make them my enemy? No, it doesn't; those people just aren't MY people. Even with dating, I can't force anyone to see me. I can't force my value on someone who craves attention from the village.
You can't give someone more of something they've already declined. Giving more of oneself leads to disappointment in the end. I couldn't make a man realize that I was a good woman; I had to know that for myself.
His lack of my value didn't take away from me being someone's better whole. I've loved and lost a few things, but I refuse to let myself be one. From all those experiences, though, I had to INNERstand life is more than the day-to-day hustle. I was missing the bigger picture for myself. It took me being dragged through the mud by the people I least expected to walk into what is for me. These last few months required me to remain humble and quiet even in situations where I was right.
With those losses came the setup of things better. I couldn't ask for change then cling to the very things holding me back. Life stripped me and left me in a vulnerable space of growth. Yet, I didn't lose anything that was meant for me. Some doors close so that you can own the building later. Now, my feet are being placed in rooms that I never pictured for myself. I settled for love, jobs, and people when it was time to raise the bar.
In six months, I lost it all, but I got it all back tenfold. So sometimes life isn't about blooming where you're planted; it's about knowing that sometimes where you're planted isn't where you are supposed to bloom.