📢 No More Mirrors for the Unready

🦋How one unexpected day of fun reminded me of my power, and why I’ll never shrink again.

There was a time I couldn’t see the light at the end of my own tunnel, not because it wasn’t there, but because I didn’t yet believe I deserved to walk toward it.

But healing doesn’t always announce itself with fireworks. Sometimes it arrives in the quiet moments, when I speak up without shaking, when I choose peace without guilt, when I honor who I’m becoming instead of defending who I used to be.

I’m still unlearning old patterns. Still catching myself in habits that no longer serve me. But these days, I move through those moments with gentleness, not shame. I am not perfect, but I am consistent. I am not finished, but I am free.

And every time I recognize my progress, every time I feel the strength of who I’ve become, it hums like a truth I can finally hear clearly:
I’m proud of this version of me.

And this day? This was the moment that reminded me why.

I wasn’t expecting to grow from it. We went fishing. We laughed. I sang loudly and badly. We had a cookout. It was relaxed, easy, even joyful for a while. But things shifted later that afternoon
in a way that revealed just how far I’ve come.

✨ That day reminded me of a version of myself I hadn’t seen in years, and I missed her.

✨ I’ve Been Okay on My Own… But I Don’t Want to Hide Anymore

I’ve spent years keeping people at a distance. Some of it was protection. Some of it was exhaustion. Some of it was fear; fear that if I let people in, they’d twist my story, use it against me, or confirm the worst things I believed about myself.

But something about stepping into a space I don’t usually go… being around people I used to know… I felt it. That tug between the old me and the true me. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t try to silence it.

🌱 Outgrowing What No Longer Serves Me

That day wasn’t just a fun outing. It was revealing. And not in the loud, dramatic way, but in the subtle, unshakable awareness that hits when your soul sees clearly.

I found myself face-to-face with someone who had once told me he was healing. That he was growing. That we were in the same season of transformation. But once we were physically in the same space, I realized the truth: it was a performance. He spoke over others. He had to be right. He looked down on people and masked it as wisdom. And worst of all, he tried to make me feel small for simply being myself.

He told others we had slept together. Lied.
When I confronted him, he admitted it, said it was some test to see how I’d react.??
Less than an hour later, he denied it.
Asked me for proof. No Proof it didn't happen. 

By the next day, the messages came: blame, confusion, claiming he didn’t know what I was talking about, and then, casually trying to talk to me as if nothing had happened.
Hindsight is always clear: he wanted a favor.

He gaslit me with faux confusion and passive deflection.
Not once did he acknowledge the disrespect.
Not once did he show a shred of care for how it made me feel.

The behavior was all too familiar, and this time, I didn’t mistake it for anything but what it was.

And, for the first time in my life, I didn’t absorb it. I didn’t bend, shrink, or try to fix it. I didn’t take his story and make it mine.

I didn’t try to smooth the tension. I didn’t force myself to believe his version to preserve the peace. I stood in my truth. Calm. Grounded. Clear. And when I saw that no accountability was coming, I walked away. Not in anger. Not in fear. But in sovereignty.

I thought, briefly, about being that mirror for him, that person who could crack open the door to awareness. But the truth is: he wasn’t ready. And his energy was draining mine.

People like that don’t need another person to hold up a mirror. They need to choose to look into one themselves.

For most of my life, I carried a deep sensitivity to my flaws and mistakes. My self-awareness could feel like both a gift and a curse. But I see now it has been my greatest strength. It’s what has helped me evolve. What has helped me rise.

I no longer confuse emotional intelligence with emotional labor. I don’t have to carry the weight of someone else’s growth, or their projection, or their refusal to look in the mirror.

That day, I didn’t just stand in my truth; I stood tall in my identity. And for once, I didn’t flinch.

That day out wasn’t just fun. It was a spark. A reminder. A message from my higher self that I’ve been silent long enough.

“Healing alone was brave—but sharing it is powerful.”

 

 

So here I am. Sharing it. For me. For my son. For anyone else who’s ever forgotten how bright they truly are.

You’re not a ghost. You’re not invisible. You’re still here, and you’re not alone.

🙋🏽‍♀️And to the woman smiling as she writes this, proud of every choice she made to walk away from what no longer serves her… I see you. I am you. And I love you. 💖💖