Emotional Wellbeing

I Am No Longer Available for People or Things That Make Me Feel Bad

There was a time in my life when I stayed available to everything.

People who drained me.
Situations that unsettled me.
Conversations that left me questioning myself.
Expectations that did not belong to me.

I told myself it was kindness. Loyalty. Patience. Love.

But if I am honest, much of it was fear.

Fear of disappointing others.
Fear of conflict.
Fear of being misunderstood.
Fear of not being liked.

And while I was busy protecting everyone else’s comfort, I was slowly abandoning my own.

That realization changed everything.

Prefer to listen? The Audio Blog version is available here.

Learning That Availability Is a Choice

For a long time, I believed being a good person meant always being accessible. Always accommodating. Always understanding. Always giving the benefit of the doubt, even when my intuition was quietly telling me something was off.

I thought boundaries made me difficult.
I thought saying no made me selfish.
I thought protecting my energy made me cold.

Now I see it differently.

Availability is not a personality trait. It is a choice. And I get to decide where my energy goes.

Not Everything Deserves Access to You

This was a hard truth for me.

Just because someone wants your time does not mean they deserve it.
Just because something once fit your life does not mean it still does.
Just because you can tolerate something does not mean you should.

Growth has taught me that protecting my peace is not selfish. It is necessary.

When something consistently makes me feel small, anxious, depleted, or unsettled, I pay attention now. I no longer override those signals.

My nervous system is wise.
My intuition is wise.
My emotional well-being matters.

Choosing Peace Over Approval

There was a version of me that wanted everyone to understand me.

To approve of me.
To agree with me.
To be comfortable with my choices.

That version of me worked very hard. And she was very tired.

Today, I am less concerned with approval and more committed to alignment.

Peace feels better than permission.
Clarity feels better than constant compromise.
Authenticity feels better than acceptance built on pretending.

And the people meant for me respect that shift.

Walking Away Is Not Failure

One of the biggest lessons I have learned is that leaving something that harms you is not failure. It is wisdom.

It does not mean you did not try.
It does not mean you did not care.
It does not mean you gave up too easily.

Sometimes it means you finally chose yourself.

I used to stay far longer than I should have. In relationships. In environments. In conversations. In expectations.

Now I listen sooner.
I trust myself sooner.
I choose peace sooner.

That is growth.

What This Looks Like in Real Life

Being unavailable for what harms you does not always mean dramatic exits.

Sometimes it looks quiet.

Less explaining.
Less engaging.
Less overextending.
Less tolerating what feels wrong.

Sometimes it is simply choosing not to participate.

That quiet shift can be powerful.

This Is Not About Becoming Hard

Choosing peace does not make you cold.
Having boundaries does not make you unkind.
Protecting your energy does not make you distant.

If anything, it allows you to show up more fully where it matters.

When I stopped pouring energy into what drained me, I had more to give to what nourishes me. More presence. More patience. More authenticity.

That feels like love, not withdrawal.

Your Peace Is Worth Protecting

You do not have to justify wanting to feel safe in your own life.

You do not have to explain why something does not feel right.

You do not have to keep proving your worth by enduring discomfort.

You are allowed to choose environments, relationships, and commitments that support your well-being.

That is not selfish.

That is self-respect.

I Am No Longer Available

I am no longer available for constant tension.
For unnecessary drama.
For energy that feels heavy.
For situations that make me doubt myself.

I am available for growth.
For peace.
For honesty.
For relationships rooted in respect.

And most importantly, I am available for myself.

SLAY Reflection

Let us reflect SLAYER:

S: Where in your life do you feel drained or unsettled
L: What signs has your body or intuition been giving you
A: What is one boundary you could gently introduce
Y: How might your life shift if you prioritized peace over approval

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I would love to hear from you.
What is one thing you are no longer available for in your life
Share your story in the comments. Let us cheer each other on.

And if you know someone learning to protect their peace, send this to them.
Sometimes all we need is a reminder that we are allowed to choose ourselves.

No One Knows What Happens Quietly

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the things we don’t see. The pain people carry. The stories they don’t share. The struggles that never make it to the surface.

Because the truth is, no one knows what happens quietly.

Behind the Brave Face

When I was living in the dark, I wore a mask. Every day, I put on a brave face and told the world I was fine—even though I was anything but.

It became a reflex. A way to survive.

And I know I’m not alone in that.

We live in a world where “I’m fine” is often code for “I’m barely holding it together.” And it’s easy to miss the signs. It’s easy to take people at face value and forget that everyone is carrying something.

So now, when I interact with someone—whether it’s a friend, a stranger, or the person ringing up my groceries—I try to remember that I have no idea what they might be going through. I might be stepping into their quiet moment.

Hitting the Pause Button

I’m not perfect at this. There are days when someone’s energy or reaction triggers me, too. But I try to pause. To not react out of my own pain or assumptions.

Because the truth is, sometimes someone’s anger, withdrawal, or silence isn’t about me at all. It’s a symptom of something deeper. Something they haven’t said. Something they feel they can’t say.

That’s why compassion matters.

That’s why curiosity matters.

And that’s why I try to lead with both.

When We Stay Quiet, We Suffer Alone

One of the most heartbreaking things I’ve learned is this:

When people don’t feel safe enough to speak their truth, they often believe they have no way out.

Not just emotionally—but tragically, sometimes, physically.

When we silence our pain—out of fear, shame, or the belief that no one will understand—it festers. And in that silence, so many people feel hopeless, isolated, and unseen.

They start to believe the lie that their story is too much… that they are too much.

And when there’s no outlet, no connection, no safe space to speak from the darkness,
some believe the only way to end their pain is to end everything.

That’s why sharing your story matters.

Because when you let someone see your truth, you give them permission to share theirs.
You remind them that connection is still possible.
That healing isn’t something they have to do alone.

Your vulnerability can be someone else’s lifeline.

And their story might just help you, too.

Be the Safe Space

The world can be loud. But people’s pain often isn’t.

So as you move through your day, try to remember:

You may be stepping into someone’s quiet.
Their unspoken grief. Their silent struggle. The story they haven’t found words for yet.

Be gentle.
Be kind.
Be the space where it’s safe to take the mask off.

And if you’re the one wearing the mask today—I see you. I’ve been you. And you are not alone.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Have you ever told someone you were “fine” when you weren’t?
  • What were you really feeling underneath?
  • Do you assume the worst when someone reacts strongly—or do you pause to consider what they might be carrying?
  • How can you be more compassionate to the quiet struggles of others?
  • What would it take for you to speak honestly about your own?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What helps you stay compassionate when you don’t know someone’s full story?
Share your thoughts in the comments. Let’s support each other with softness.

And if you know someone who’s struggling in silence, send this to them.
Sometimes, a small act of kindness says: “I see you.”