The choice is mine now…

Over the last couple of years, I’ve found myself in situations that the me of ten years ago might have reacted badly to. But this version of me, the one who has learned, healed, and grown, navigates the unavoidable differently. Still, I have to admit, sometimes I feel hurt, and sometimes I still find myself ruminating and revisiting the emotions.

I’m not someone who hides from the part I play in things. I don’t shy away from accountability and I don’t automatically blame others.

I am self aware, reflective, responsible, emotionally honest and open to growth.

I have worked very hard to become that person.

So when something is genuinely not my fault, my mind notices the difference. It feels unjust because it is unjust. It lingers because I didn’t cause it, I didn’t deserve it, and yet I was treated like I had.

Old me would have reacted differently, taken it personally, pushed for fairness, fought for the truth or for resolution.

But healed/healing me has wisdom, boundaries, and clarity. I know my worth.

This me knows what I did and didn’t do. This me can recognise someone else’s dysfunction without internalising it. This me can talk about it calmly, without bitterness, as an injury that deserves acknowledgement.

I’m proud of myself for reaching this emotional level. But being proud doesn’t mean the hurt magically disappears, especially when others would rather point fingers than acknowledge who they are.

In an ideal world, I wouldn’t entertain a conversation with those types of people at all.

But sometimes, in order to maintain cohesive relationships with someone who is important to you, you have to make exceptions.

But under no circumstances does it mean you take shit. 💁🏻‍♀️