Love

Before You Argue, Ask Yourself: Is This Worth My Energy?

We’ve all been there. Someone says something that grates on us—maybe it’s dismissive, maybe it’s condescending, maybe it’s flat-out wrong. Our instinct is to jump in, argue, explain, and prove our point. But here’s the question that changes everything:

Is this person even mentally mature enough to grasp the concept of a different perspective?

Because if the answer is no, then your energy is too valuable to waste.

The Illusion of Winning Arguments

When I was younger, I thought “winning” an argument meant I had more power. I thought if I could just explain it better, the other person would finally get it, nod their head, and say: “Wow, you’re right.”

But it rarely worked out that way. Instead, the harder I pushed, the harder they dug in. Logic didn’t matter. Evidence didn’t matter. My passion and sincerity didn’t matter.

What I eventually realized is this: you can’t force someone to see what they’re not ready—or willing—to see.

And that’s not a reflection of your intelligence, compassion, or truth. That’s a reflection of their capacity.

Maturity Meets Perspective

Not everyone has the tools, the emotional maturity, or even the desire to understand perspectives outside their own. Some people are locked in fear. Some cling to control. Some confuse listening with weakness.

If you’re standing in your truth, speaking from love and alignment, but the other person is stuck in a loop of defensiveness, superiority, or chaos—you will never meet in the middle.

It’s like trying to explain color to someone who insists the world is only black and white. You’re not going to paint them into understanding.

Why We Still Try

So why do we still argue?

For me, it often came from a need to be seen. I wanted validation. I wanted acknowledgment. I wanted someone to finally say: “I understand you.”

But here’s the hard truth: arguing with someone who is unwilling or unable to meet you where you are doesn’t get you understanding—it gets you exhaustion.

When you argue with someone who isn’t open, you’re not exchanging ideas. You’re fighting for airtime in a room where the mic is already turned off.

Energy Economics: Protecting Your Investment

Think of your energy like currency. Every interaction is an investment. And not everyone can afford it.

When you spend your emotional energy trying to convince someone who has already decided not to hear you, you’re making a bad investment. You’re pouring into a void.

Instead, what if you chose to save that energy? What if you redirected it toward people and spaces where curiosity exists, where growth is possible, and where your perspective matters?

That’s when the return on your investment multiplies.

It’s Not About Being Right—It’s About Being Wise

There’s a subtle but powerful difference between wanting to be right and choosing to be wise.

  • Being right demands a fight.
  • Being wise recognizes when silence speaks louder.

You don’t need to prove your worth through debate. Your worth is not determined by someone else’s ability—or inability—to understand you.

Sometimes the most powerful move you can make is to walk away, not because you’ve lost, but because you’ve risen above.

What Walking Away Really Means

Walking away doesn’t mean you’re weak. It doesn’t mean you’re giving up. It doesn’t mean you don’t care.

It means you’ve chosen peace over chaos. It means you’ve recognized the limits of the conversation and your own boundaries. It means you know your energy is precious, and you’re no longer willing to spend it recklessly.

Walking away is not defeat—it’s discipline.

The Freedom in Letting Go

Here’s what happens when you stop arguing with people who aren’t ready to hear you:

  • Your nervous system calms down.
  • Your energy goes back into your own growth.
  • You stop rehearsing conversations that will never resolve.
  • You discover new connections with people who can meet you where you are.

And maybe most importantly: you remember that your peace is not up for negotiation.

Practical Steps: Before You Argue, Ask Yourself…

Next time you feel that urge to argue rising up, pause and ask:

  1. Is this person capable of seeing another perspective—or are they locked into proving their own?
  2. What is my goal here? To be understood? To change them? To feel heard?
  3. Will this conversation bring me peace—or drain me?
  4. If I walk away, what am I protecting? My truth? My peace? My energy?
  5. If I stay, what am I risking?

This quick gut-check can save you hours of stress and prevent you from spending energy you’ll regret.

Final Thought: Choose Peace Over Proving

At the end of the day, the people who are meant to walk beside you will want to hear your perspective. They’ll be curious. They’ll ask questions. They’ll listen, even if they don’t agree.

Those who aren’t capable of that? They’ll show you by their resistance, their defensiveness, their refusal to even try.

And in that moment, you have a choice. You can argue and deplete yourself. Or you can walk away, preserve your peace, and let your life—not your words—be the proof.

Because the truth is, peace doesn’t need a microphone. It just needs space.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Who in your life drains your energy by refusing to hear your perspective?
  2. What situations tempt you into arguments that never go anywhere?
  3. How does it feel in your body when you argue with someone who refuses to listen?
  4. How might your life change if you saved that energy for people who can understand you?
  5. What would it look like to choose peace over proving this week?

S – Stop wasting energy on those who won’t listen
L – Let your peace matter more than your pride
A – Ask yourself if the conversation is worth the investment
Y – Yield your energy toward those who value it

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
When was the last time you chose peace over proving yourself—and what shifted for you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s exhausted from fighting battles that can’t be won, send this to them.
Sometimes, the most powerful reminder is: you don’t have to argue to be free.

Invisible to What Isn’t Love

There’s a quiet kind of power that comes from living in love, in truth, and in alignment with who you are. It doesn’t scream for attention. It doesn’t need to prove itself. It simply is. And when you settle into that place—your authentic place—you’ll notice something miraculous: the noise, the chaos, the lies, the drama, the things that used to pull you under, can’t even touch you anymore.

It’s like you become invisible to everything that doesn’t match your frequency.

That’s not magic. That’s alignment.

Love Is the Foundation

When I talk about love here, I don’t mean the hearts-and-flowers version of love that gets wrapped up in greeting cards or romanticized movies. I mean the kind of love that starts inside you—the radical, unconditional love that says:

  • I am worthy.
  • I am enough.
  • I don’t need to perform, please, or prove my value.

When you stand in that kind of love, you stop chasing after scraps of validation. You stop bending yourself into pieces just to keep others comfortable. You recognize that your energy, your time, your spirit are sacred.

And that love becomes your shield. Not a shield that hardens you, but one that keeps out anything that doesn’t reflect back respect, kindness, or reciprocity.

Truth Sets You Free

Living in truth can be terrifying at first. Many of us were taught to hide pieces of ourselves to stay safe, to keep the peace, or to earn approval. For years, I wore masks—smiling when I wasn’t okay, saying “yes” when everything inside me screamed “no,” bending my truth so others wouldn’t have to face theirs.

But here’s the thing: bending your truth breaks you.

When I finally began to speak honestly—about what I needed, what I felt, and what I believed—I was terrified people would leave. And you know what? Some did. But the ones who stayed? They were the ones who truly saw me.

Truth is a filter. It doesn’t cost you real love. It only costs you illusions.

Alignment Makes You Untouchable

Alignment is what happens when your actions, your words, and your values finally match. It’s when your “yes” means yes, your “no” means no, and your energy flows in the direction of your highest good instead of being drained by people-pleasing, perfectionism, or fear.

When you’re aligned, you don’t need to force anything. You don’t need to beg, explain, or overcompensate. You simply are, and that “being” is enough.

And here’s where the magic happens: the things that are not love, not truth, not aligned—they literally can’t find you anymore. They bounce off. The drama you used to get pulled into suddenly looks exhausting. The games people play feel irrelevant. The old triggers don’t stick because you’ve outgrown the version of yourself that needed to engage with them.

You become invisible to what’s beneath you, because you’re no longer on that frequency.

The Power of Choosing What You Align With

Here’s what I know for sure:

  • If you align with fear, fear will find you.
  • If you align with shame, shame will chase you.
  • If you align with love, truth, and integrity, only those things can stay.

It doesn’t mean life will be free of challenges. But it does mean you’ll have the strength, clarity, and resilience to meet them without losing yourself.

And it’s in that space that you realize: peace isn’t about controlling your surroundings—it’s about controlling your alignment within them.

How to Stay in Love, Truth, and Alignment

It sounds simple, but it’s a daily practice. Here are some ways I stay anchored when the world tries to pull me out of myself:

  1. Pause before reacting. Ask: Am I about to respond from fear, or from love?
  2. Check your motives. Are you acting to be seen, validated, or liked—or because it’s aligned with your values?
  3. Revisit your boundaries. If something drains you, it’s not aligned with your truth.
  4. Speak honestly. Even if your voice shakes. Even if it costs you approval.
  5. Choose peace over proving. You don’t need to convince anyone of your worth.

The Gift of Invisibility

Being invisible to what isn’t love, truth, or alignment isn’t about ignoring reality. It’s about being so rooted in your truth that lies can’t hook you. It’s about being so anchored in love that hate has nowhere to land.

It’s about being so aligned that drama looks for someone else to feed on—because you’ve stopped giving it energy.

And that, SLAYER, is freedom.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Where in your life are you still bending your truth to keep the peace?
  2. What practices help you return to self-love when you feel unworthy?
  3. Who or what drains your energy because it’s not aligned with your values?
  4. How does it feel when you fully act from alignment?
  5. What’s one area of your life where you can choose love, truth, and alignment this week?

S – Stand firm in your truth, even when it’s uncomfortable
L – Let love, not fear, be your guide
A – Align your actions with your values, daily
Y – Yield to your highest self and let the rest fall away

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What shifted when you chose to stay in love, stay in truth, and stay aligned?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling with people-pleasing, fear, or chaos—send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that alignment makes us untouchable.

Temporary People Teach Us Permanent Lessons

We don’t always get to choose who comes into our lives—or how long they stay. Some people walk with us for a lifetime, others for only a season. And while temporary people may leave as quickly as they came, their impact often lingers.

Sometimes it’s beautiful. Sometimes it’s heartbreaking. But always—it’s instructive.

Because even the ones who don’t stay teach us something we carry forward. Temporary people leave permanent lessons.

The Pain of Goodbyes and the Gift They Leave Behind

When someone exits your life, it can feel like rejection, abandonment, or loss. You may replay every moment, wondering what you could have done differently to make them stay. But here’s the truth: their leaving isn’t always about you.

Temporary people teach us boundaries. They teach us what we will and will not accept.
They teach us value. Sometimes by showing us what we deserve—and sometimes by showing us what we don’t.

Not all lessons are gentle. But every lesson has purpose.

What Temporary People Reflect Back to Us

Every person who crosses our path acts as a mirror. Some reflect our best qualities back at us—reminding us of the love, kindness, or courage we already hold. Others reflect the wounds we still carry, highlighting the work that’s left undone.

If you’ve ever noticed how one relationship reveals your need for boundaries, while another pushes you toward forgiveness, that’s no accident. Temporary people show us where we’re growing, and where we’re still stuck.

Even the ones who hurt us—sometimes especially the ones who hurt us—end up guiding us toward our truth.

Not Everyone Is Meant to Stay

We live in a culture that glorifies “forever.” Forever friends. Forever love. Forever loyalty. But life doesn’t always work that way.

The truth is, some people are only meant to walk us part of the way. They show up for a chapter, not the whole book. And that’s okay.

Because their role is not to stay—it’s to move us forward. To give us the lesson, the shift, the wake-up call we couldn’t have gotten any other way.

When we cling to people who were only meant to be temporary, we rob ourselves of the lesson. When we let them go with gratitude, we keep the gift they came to bring.

Choosing Growth Over Grief

It’s natural to grieve when someone leaves. But we don’t have to get stuck in the story of what “could have been.”

Instead, we can ask:
What did I learn from this connection?
How did this person shift me?
What strength did I discover because of them?

Sometimes the hardest people to release leave behind the clearest lessons. They teach us self-respect. They teach us resilience. They teach us that we can survive the leaving—and even thrive after it.

You may not have chosen their exit, but you can choose what you carry forward.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Who in your past was only meant to be temporary, but taught you something lasting?
  2. What lesson are you still carrying from a relationship that didn’t last?
  3. Do you find yourself holding on to people who were never meant to stay? Why?
  4. How does it feel to shift from grief to gratitude when you think of temporary people?
  5. What permanent strength or wisdom do you have today because someone left?

S – See the role they played in your growth
L – Let go of what wasn’t meant to last
A – Acknowledge the lessons they gave you
Y – Yield to gratitude instead of grief

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Who was a “temporary person” in your life, and what permanent lesson did they leave behind?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone struggling to let go of someone who was never meant to stay, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that even endings carry gifts.

Just Because Someone Gave Up on You, Don’t Give Up on Yourself

There’s a particular kind of pain that comes when someone you believed in—someone you trusted—decides you’re no longer worth the effort. It might be a partner, a friend, a family member, or even an employer.

Sometimes they drift away quietly. Sometimes they slam the door. And sometimes, they make sure you hear exactly why you didn’t make the cut.

It’s human to internalize those moments. To question what’s wrong with you. To wonder if they saw something you didn’t. But here’s the truth—their decision to give up on you is about them, not you.

Their Choice Is Not Your Worth

When someone gives up on you, it’s easy to translate that into, “I’m not enough.” But what they’re really saying is, “I’m not willing, able, or ready to invest in this anymore.”

That’s not the same thing as saying you have no value.

We often assume that other people’s actions are direct reflections of who we are. But in reality, they’re reflections of their capacity, their priorities, their fears, and their choices. Someone’s inability or unwillingness to see your worth does not erase your worth.

When we take someone else’s abandonment as proof that we should abandon ourselves, we hand over our power. And once that happens, their absence gets to dictate the rest of our story.

You don’t owe them that power.

Self-Trust Is Your Lifeline

When the dust settles, what you’re left with is you. And that’s where the real work begins.

Self-trust isn’t built in grand declarations—it’s built in small, consistent acts of showing up for yourself. It’s saying, “I still choose me, even when they didn’t.”

Here’s the thing: if you keep believing in yourself, you always have another chapter to write.

Yes, it hurts when someone walks away. But you’re still standing. You still have dreams, talents, and the ability to create a life you love. You still have the capacity to love yourself fiercely, even if others failed to.

The most powerful way to respond when someone gives up on you is to prove—to yourself—that you never will.

Let Their Exit Teach You, Not Break You

People leaving can be clarifying. Painful? Absolutely. But clarifying.

When someone exits your life, you get the chance to ask:

  • Was I shrinking myself to keep them close?
  • Did I rely on their validation more than my own?
  • Was I ignoring red flags because I didn’t want to lose them?

The end of a relationship, friendship, or opportunity can feel like a collapse—but it can also be a clearing. A chance to rebuild in a way that’s more aligned with who you are now.

Sometimes someone’s departure forces you to look at your own patterns, boundaries, and needs in a way you never would have otherwise.

If you use the pain as data, it can actually serve you.

Your Story Isn’t Over Because They Left

It’s tempting to see someone’s departure as the end of something essential—as if the part of you that existed with them can’t survive without them. But your life is bigger than their role in it.

Think of the people you haven’t even met yet. The experiences you haven’t had. The opportunities that wouldn’t have been possible if you stayed where you were.

The world is full of people who will believe in you. People who will stand beside you, support you, and challenge you to grow—not shrink.

But the most important believer you’ll ever have is the one staring back at you in the mirror.

Refuse to Abandon Yourself

Here’s the bottom line:

  • Someone else’s choice to walk away does not define you.
  • You are allowed to grieve, but you are not required to quit on yourself.
  • You can acknowledge the hurt without adopting it as your identity.

The real loss would be if you decided their decision was the final say in your worth.

Keep showing up. Keep writing your story. Keep choosing you—over and over again.

Because the day you give up on yourself is the day you stop being open to the possibilities that are still ahead.

And trust me… there are so many.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Who in your life has walked away, and how did it impact your self-belief?
  2. In what ways have you relied on others for validation?
  3. How can you build more self-trust right now?
  4. What lesson did you learn from someone leaving your life?
  5. What’s one action you can take this week to invest in yourself?

S – Stand in your worth, even when others don’t
L – Let go of those who cannot meet you where you are
A – Affirm your value daily, without waiting for outside approval
Y – Yield to growth, even when it comes through loss

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
When someone gave up on you, what did you do to keep believing in yourself?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s questioning their worth because someone walked away, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Learning to Love the Thing You Wish Hadn’t Happened

There are moments in life that split time in two.

There’s before it happened.
And there’s after it happened.

And sometimes, that “it” is something you would give anything to erase. A betrayal. A loss. A mistake. A failure. Something that shook you so deeply that, even years later, you still catch yourself saying, “If only that had never happened…”

I’ve been there. More than once.

For a long time, I believed the only way to be truly happy again was to go back—back to the way things were before the pain, before the fallout, before the day that changed everything. But the truth is, there is no going back. There’s only forward. And learning to move forward doesn’t mean pretending it didn’t hurt, or even pretending you’re glad it happened.

It means learning to love what it taught you.

It means finding peace in the fact that this unwanted thing—this thing you thought would break you—has also shaped you into the version of yourself you are now.

The Lie We Tell Ourselves About “If Only”

When something painful happens, our minds get stuck in loops. We replay conversations. We imagine different choices. We rewrite endings that never came.

It’s a way of bargaining with reality: If only it hadn’t happened, I’d be happier. If only it hadn’t happened, I’d be whole.

But here’s the truth no one wants to admit—those loops keep us chained to the very thing we want freedom from. Every time we run through the “if only” scenario, we hand over our present to a past we cannot change.

And if we’re not careful, we start defining ourselves by the wound instead of the healing.

What It Really Means to Love the Thing You Wish Hadn’t Happened

Loving what you wish hadn’t happened doesn’t mean excusing it, approving of it, or romanticizing pain. It’s not toxic positivity, and it’s not saying, “Everything happens for a reason” as a way to shut down your feelings.

It’s about recognizing that you did survive it. That it’s part of your story. And that by accepting it instead of resisting it, you can take back your power.

When you love what you wish hadn’t happened, you’re saying:

  • “I see what this taught me, even if I never wanted the lesson.”
  • “I won’t let this moment define my future in a way that keeps me small.”
  • “I can carry this with me without letting it weigh me down.”

That shift—acceptance over resistance—is where freedom begins.

Turning Pain Into Purpose

If I look back at my own life, the moments I once wished away have given me some of my greatest strengths.

The heartbreak that shattered me? It taught me how to listen to my intuition.

The loss that felt unbearable? It taught me to love harder and to cherish the present.

The mistake I swore I’d never recover from? It humbled me, made me more compassionate, and connected me to people I never would have met otherwise.

When you learn to love what you wish hadn’t happened, you’re essentially mining your pain for gold. You’re pulling the wisdom from the rubble. You’re saying, “If I have to carry this, I will make sure it makes me stronger.”

Choosing to See the Gift

This is the hardest part—seeing the gift in the thing you never wanted.

Sometimes the gift isn’t obvious. It’s not wrapped neatly with a bow. It might take years before you see how something awful set the stage for something better.

But I believe this: Every wound has the potential to be the very thing that builds your wings.

That doesn’t happen automatically. It happens when you choose to look for the lessons. When you decide that your story will not end in tragedy, but in transformation.

You Don’t Have to Like It to Learn From It

There’s a misconception that acceptance means approval. It doesn’t. You can still hate what happened. You can still grieve it, still wish it had been different.

Acceptance is simply saying, “It happened. I can’t change that. But I can choose how I live with it.”

And sometimes, “living with it” means integrating it into your story in a way that honors your growth instead of your grief.

From Scar to Strength

Your pain is not who you are.

It’s part of your story, but it’s not your identity. The thing you wish hadn’t happened might always sting a little, but with time, the sting fades, and the scar becomes proof—not of what hurt you, but of what couldn’t break you.

When you reach the point where you can love that scar, when you can look at it and think, That’s where I grew the most, you’ve taken back what was stolen from you.

That’s when the thing you once wished away becomes the thing that shaped you into the person you were always meant to be.

SLAY Reflection

  1. What’s one event in your life you still wish had never happened?
  2. How has holding onto resistance kept you tied to it?
  3. What’s one strength, lesson, or relationship you have today because of it?
  4. How would your life look if you could accept it fully?
  5. What’s one small step you can take this week toward making peace with it?

S – Stop replaying the “if only” loop
L – Look for the lessons, even if they’re small
A – Accept that it’s part of your story, not all of it
Y – Yield to the growth it’s given you

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one thing you wish had never happened—and how has it unexpectedly shaped you for the better?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck wishing they could erase the past, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

People-Pleasing Is Manipulation in Disguise

We often think of people-pleasing as a “nice” trait. We want to be liked, avoid conflict, and make others happy. But here’s the hard truth: people-pleasing is actually a form of manipulation.

I know that might sting. It did for me when I first realized it.

People-pleasing isn’t just about kindness—it’s about controlling how people see you. It’s about shaping their perception, keeping them happy so they won’t be upset with you, leave you, or think badly of you. And while it might look selfless on the surface, underneath it’s driven by fear and control.

When you live in that cycle, you’re not actually being authentic—you’re performing. And no performance lasts forever.

The Hidden Cost of Pleasing Everyone

For years, I lived in a world of quiet performance. I wanted everyone to like me. I thought if I kept everyone happy, no one could hurt me. I said yes when I wanted to say no. I laughed at things I didn’t find funny. I took on tasks I didn’t have time for. I agreed with opinions that didn’t reflect my own.

At the time, I thought I was being “easygoing” and “kind.” What I was really doing was trading my authenticity for approval.

Here’s the problem: people-pleasing keeps you stuck in a loop of resentment. You give and give to avoid conflict, but inside you feel empty, angry, and misunderstood. And the worst part? People aren’t seeing the real you—they’re seeing the version you think they want.

People-pleasing is not generosity. It’s fear in a nice outfit.

People-Pleasing Is About Control

When I finally started doing the work on myself, I realized that my need to please wasn’t selfless—it was controlling.

I wasn’t just helping others. I was managing their reactions to me. I was trying to avoid discomfort, dodge rejection, and secure love and approval without ever having to risk showing my true self.

Here’s the truth:

  • When you say yes but mean no, you’re lying.
  • When you overextend yourself to avoid someone’s disappointment, you’re manipulating their perception.
  • When you pretend to agree just to keep the peace, you’re abandoning yourself.

It’s hard to admit, but once I faced it, I felt…free. I wasn’t “nice.” I was scared. And I was hiding behind compliance to stay safe.

Breaking the Cycle

Learning to stop people-pleasing is like building a new muscle. At first, it feels foreign. It feels risky. It even feels mean—because you’re so used to putting everyone else first.

Here’s what helped me break free:

  1. Get Honest About Your Motives
    Before saying yes, ask yourself: Am I doing this out of love and choice, or fear and control?
  2. Sit with Discomfort
    Saying no, setting boundaries, or letting someone be upset with you will feel uncomfortable. Sit in it. That discomfort is your freedom forming.
  3. Reclaim Your Voice
    When you start telling the truth—“I can’t commit to that,” “I don’t feel comfortable,” or simply, “No”—you’ll feel your power return.
  4. Detach from Approval
    Not everyone will like you. Not everyone will understand you. But people who love the real you will stay, and those who only loved the performance will fade.

The Power of Authenticity

The shift from people-pleasing to authenticity changed my life.

When I stopped performing, I discovered who actually belonged in my life. I learned that relationships built on honesty are stronger than relationships built on compliance. And most importantly, I learned to trust myself again.

When you release the need to control how others see you, you also release the constant exhaustion of managing everyone else’s feelings. You step out of manipulation and into freedom.

So the next time you feel the pull to please, pause. Ask yourself: Am I doing this out of love, or out of fear? Am I honoring myself, or abandoning myself to keep the peace?

The real you is always worth showing. And the people who are meant for you will meet you there.

Choose truth over performance. Choose authenticity over approval. Choose you.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you often say yes when you mean no? Why?
  2. How does people-pleasing keep you in cycles of resentment?
  3. Can you recall a time you were honest about your boundaries? How did it feel?
  4. What relationships in your life are based on performance instead of authenticity?
  5. What’s one small step you can take today to stop people-pleasing and start honoring yourself?

S – Stop and notice when you’re abandoning yourself for approval
L – Let go of the need to manage how others see you
A – Align your choices with your truth, not your fear
Y – Yield to authenticity, even when it feels uncomfortable

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Where does people-pleasing still show up in your life, and how are you working to break free?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling with saying yes when they want to say no, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is permission to stop performing.

Letting Go Doesn’t Mean Forgetting

There are moments in life that mark us so deeply, they carve their names into our memory. A love we lost. A chapter that closed too soon. A person who changed us forever. And when we talk about letting go, it can feel like we’re being asked to erase those parts of our story—to forget, to move on, to pretend it never meant as much as it did.

But letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means learning how to carry the past with you without letting it weigh you down.

There is a quiet kind of strength in remembering. In holding onto what once made your heart full, not to relive it or rewrite it—but to honor it. Letting go is not an erasure. It’s an act of transformation.

You Can Turn the Page Without Tearing It Out

I used to think that moving on meant forgetting. That in order to stop the ache, I had to pretend the past didn’t exist. But the truth is, the ache only grew louder when I tried to silence it.

Grief, loss, heartbreak—they don’t disappear just because we’re tired of feeling them. They soften when we allow them to be part of us. When we stop fighting them. When we let them shape us, instead of shame us.

The chapters that break us open are still part of our story. They don’t need to be rewritten. They need to be remembered. With tenderness. With clarity. With the understanding that they taught us something essential about who we are.

So no, you don’t need to forget. You just need to stop clutching the past so tightly that your hands aren’t free to receive what’s next.

Memory Is Not the Enemy

We’re told to move on. To get over it. To stop living in the past. And while yes, healing requires forward motion, it doesn’t require amnesia.

You can move forward and still feel. You can carry love and loss in the same breath.

Letting go is not about abandoning your memories. It’s about finding the strength to acknowledge them—even the painful ones—and still take the next step.

I had to learn how to hold space for both: the ache of what was, and the hope of what could be. And in doing that, I discovered something surprising:

The past doesn’t hold me hostage when I stop trying to run from it.

Instead, it becomes something I carry—not with regret, but with reverence.

Life Moves On, and So Can You

There’s a moment in every healing journey when you realize: you can miss what was, love who you were, and still choose to turn the page.

Letting go is not a betrayal of the past. It’s a commitment to your future.

You can bring everything you’ve learned with you. The beauty. The brokenness. The truth. All of it.

Letting go is about making peace with what no longer fits, not because it wasn’t real, but because you are growing.

So don’t rush to forget. Don’t erase what made you feel. Let the memories come. Let them stay. Just don’t let them stop you from living the life that’s waiting for you now.

Let your purpose lead. It knows the way.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Is there something in your past you’ve been trying to forget in order to move on?
  2. How might you carry it differently—with tenderness instead of pain?
  3. What have your most difficult moments taught you about yourself?
  4. Are you ready to stop running and start remembering?
  5. What would turning the page look like for you today?

S – Sit with your memories, even the hard ones
L – Let yourself feel without needing to fix
A – Accept what was, and honor how it shaped you
Y – Yield to growth—even when it hurts

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What is something from your past that you now carry with love instead of pain?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to let go, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Chase Purpose, Not People

There was a time in my life when I was constantly chasing people—their attention, their approval, their love.

I thought if I could earn it, maybe I’d finally feel like I was enough.

But no matter how much I gave, how much I bent, or how much of myself I lost in the process…
it never felt like enough.

Because it was never supposed to be.

I wasn’t meant to chase people.
I was meant to chase purpose.
And so were you.

When We Abandon Ourselves

When we get stuck in the cycle of proving our worth to others, we end up abandoning ourselves.

We ignore what lights us up.
We try to become what we think they want.
We twist. We shrink. We perform.

We lose the very parts of ourselves that were never meant to be hidden.

And the worst part?
The more we shape-shift to please, the more invisible we become—to others and to ourselves.

Purpose Doesn’t Need to Be Impressed

Purpose is steady.
It doesn’t need applause.
It doesn’t need permission.

It doesn’t ask you to chase it—only to follow.

When I started focusing on my purpose—my healing, my growth, my creativity, my peace—it all got clearer.

I could see what was aligned.
I could feel who was for me and who never was.
The people who truly belonged in my life didn’t need to be convinced. They didn’t need to be chased. They just showed up.

And not for what I could do for them.
But for who I was becoming.

Let Purpose Lead

The truth is:
You are never too much for the right people.
And you are never not enough for the path that was made for you.

So if you’re feeling left out, overlooked, or unseen—it might not be because something’s wrong with you.

It might be because you’re not meant to follow them.

You’re meant to follow you.

Let your purpose lead.
It knows the way.

SLAY Reflection

Do you ever find yourself chasing people instead of aligning with your purpose?
What does “chasing purpose” look like in your life right now?
Who in your life supports your growth without needing you to earn their love?
What’s one step you can take today to move closer to your purpose?
How might your life shift if you stopped proving yourself and started honoring yourself?

S — Show up for yourself
L — Let go of needing approval
A — Align with your purpose
Y — Yield to what feels right, not who feels familiar

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s something you’ve stopped chasing in order to start honoring your purpose?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s trying to hold onto people instead of themselves, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Be Your Own Fairy Godmother

Some of us grew up believing someone would swoop in and fix everything. A magical godmother. A rescuer. A sign from the universe that now is the time, that this is the moment our lives change for the better.

But here’s the truth no one tells you as a kid:

The magic wand is already in your hands.

Waiting for someone else to save you keeps you stuck. Hoping for permission to live fully delays your joy. You don’t need a fairy godmother. You just need to believe in your own power to create change, healing, and magic.

You don’t need a transformation. You need a reminder of who you already are.

I Spent Years Waiting for a Rescue

I thought love would save me. Or success. Or finally being “enough.”

I believed that if I kept trying, kept achieving, kept pleasing, eventually someone would say, “You’ve made it. You’re worthy now.”

But that moment never came—because I was looking outside of myself for something only I could give.

It wasn’t until I hit rock bottom that I realized no one was coming to save me. I had to be the one to pull myself out. I had to be the one to say, “Enough. I choose me now.”

It wasn’t a grand, glittery moment. It was quiet. Personal. But it changed everything.

When you stop waiting to be chosen, and choose yourself instead, that’s when the real magic begins.

And that decision? It didn’t come from perfection. It came from truth. From realizing that I deserved better—not someday, but right now.

Create Your Own Magic

We’ve been taught that magic looks like glass slippers and pumpkin carriages. But real magic? It’s setting boundaries. It’s speaking your truth. It’s taking the brave next step—even when your voice shakes.

It’s no longer waiting for someone to tell you that you’re ready. You already are.

It’s recognizing that you are worthy of love, rest, joy, peace, and purpose—without having to earn it.

Magic is found in the everyday moments when you show up for yourself. When you advocate for your well-being. When you care for your spirit. When you speak kindly to your reflection.

Magic is deciding not to abandon yourself again.

It’s building a life that honors your truth, your pace, your values. Not the ones someone else handed you.

You don’t need a crown. You don’t need a costume. You don’t need anyone’s permission.

You’ve had the power all along.

Let this be your reminder: You are the magic. You are the moment. You are the one you’ve been waiting for.

SLAY Reflection

Ask yourself:

  • Where in your life are you waiting for someone to rescue or choose you?
  • What would it look like to choose yourself instead?
  • What’s one area where you can take your power back today?
  • What belief about worth or magic are you ready to release?
  • How can you show up for yourself like someone who truly has your back?

S – L – A – Y

S: See where you’ve been waiting for permission.
L: Listen to what your inner voice truly wants.
A: Act from a place of self-trust, not self-doubt.
Y: Yield to your own magic—it’s been waiting for you.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever realized you were the one you’ve been waiting for?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck waiting to be saved, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Love on a Leash

There’s a kind of love that doesn’t feel like love at all. It looks the part—smiles, sweet words, even grand gestures—but underneath, it’s tethered to expectations, rules, and unspoken conditions. It’s love, but only if. That’s love on a leash.

Love on a leash says: “I’ll love you if you behave a certain way.” Or worse, “I’ll love you when you’re less of this and more of that.” Sometimes, the leash comes from others. But just as often? We hold the leash ourselves.

We believe we must be a specific version of ourselves to be lovable. We shrink. We twist. We contort our identities to avoid rejection, or worse—abandonment. We believe we’re only worthy of love if we’re easy to handle, always agreeable, or constantly achieving.

And over time? That leash tightens. We stop reaching. We stop expressing. We stop showing up as who we really are.

I Know That Leash All Too Well

I’ve felt it—the pull of wanting to be loved so badly that I’d trade my truth for someone else’s comfort. The tension of walking on eggshells just to keep the peace. The guilt that rises when I try to set a boundary, even a healthy one, because I fear I’ll lose the connection if I do.

But here’s what I’ve learned:

Any love that demands you abandon yourself isn’t love. It’s control.

Love shouldn’t feel like a leash. It should feel like a safe place to land.

Real Love Doesn’t Require a Performance

Authentic love sees the real you. It invites all your parts—your fire and your softness, your growth and your mess. It doesn’t flinch at your vulnerability. It honors it.

And the same goes for how we love ourselves.

When we hold ourselves to impossible standards, we put our own hearts on a leash. We tell ourselves we’ll be worthy when we’re thinner, calmer, more successful, more perfect.

But we’re worthy now. We’ve always been.

You don’t have to earn love by becoming someone else. You get to be loved for who you are.

Releasing the Leash

Letting go of love with conditions means facing our fears. It means risking disapproval. It means standing in our truth, even if someone walks away.

But it also means freedom.

It means deeper connection, greater peace, and the kind of joy that only comes from being fully known and still fully accepted.

It starts with you. How you love yourself. How you speak to yourself. What you tolerate—from others and from your own inner voice.

And maybe most importantly? It starts with the unlearning of what love was never supposed to be.

You don’t have to stay tethered. The leash can come off.

And when it does?

You’ll remember: real love doesn’t confine—it expands.

SLAY Reflection

Ask yourself:

  • Have you ever felt like love came with conditions?
  • Who’s holding the leash—someone else, or you?
  • What stories about love and worth are you still carrying?
  • How can you begin showing yourself more unconditional acceptance?
  • What kind of love do you want to give—and receive—from this point forward?

S – L – A – Y

S: Spot the conditions—where do you feel limited in love? L: Let go of outdated beliefs about what makes you lovable.
A: Affirm your worth without needing to prove it.
Y: Yield to relationships that offer real connection—not just compliance.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever experienced love on a leash—and what helped you take it off?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to feel seen for who they truly are, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.