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<p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">Hey Sis, </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">Let me ask you something—how many hats are you wearing today? Mother? Provider? Protector? Teacher? Counselor? Oh, and don’t forget part-time coach, full-time cheerleader, and occasional referee.</span></p><p>Now let me ask you something else—where are all the men?</p><p>Not just the ones who show up for Instagram pictures or Sunday cookouts, but the ones who stay, who lead, who nurture, who teach. The ones who step into the role of a father with pride, not as a chore. Too many of us are left filling shoes we didn’t ask to wear, trying to raise boys into men when we’re still figuring out how to navigate life as women.</p><figure id="figure-enhpd7or2mm57ogb7s"><img id="enhpd7or2mm57ogb7s" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/119388299/photo/happy-lovely-african-american-family-together.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=EU4YGGq2Mi8IvxgFD9eGOQ4oaEi9bhbYPDi7PWfwcJg=" alt="Happy lovely African-American family together" title="Happy lovely African-American family together" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/119388299/photo/happy-lovely-african-american-family-together.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=EU4YGGq2Mi8IvxgFD9eGOQ4oaEi9bhbYPDi7PWfwcJg=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Can We Raise Sons to Be Men?</h3><p>People love to ask this question like it’s a mic drop, like they’ve already decided the answer is “no.” But let me tell you something—yes, we can. And we do. Every. Single. Day. But Sis, the real question isn’t whether we can raise men. It’s why so many of us have to.</p><p>We’re out here doing the impossible—working two jobs, running households, and still making time to teach our boys what it means to be strong, kind, and accountable. But let’s keep it real: this wasn’t the dream. No little girl grows up saying, “I want to be a single mom someday.”</p><p>We didn’t ask for this, but here we are, turning struggle into strength because we have no other choice.</p><figure id="figure-q2rluc54z9m57ojrxx" class=""><img id="q2rluc54z9m57ojrxx" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/119519129/photo/african-american-family-members-in-kitchen.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=pEgLUyKHx1-br_gmQgAN1e00Lk3gsYrOsTmPZqiDSe8=" alt="African-American family members in kitchen" title="African-American family members in kitchen" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/119519129/photo/african-american-family-members-in-kitchen.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=pEgLUyKHx1-br_gmQgAN1e00Lk3gsYrOsTmPZqiDSe8=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Where Are the Fathers?</h3><p>Let’s talk about it. Too many men are out here planting seeds and walking away, leaving women to carry the weight of parenting alone. And don’t hit me with that tired “bad choices” narrative. Do you really think Black women are out here choosing to struggle?</p><p>What gets me is the hypocrisy. People love to preach about the importance of marriage as if walking down the aisle guarantees a man will stay. Niggas get divorced every day, starting new families while forgetting the ones they already have. But somehow, the blame always lands on us.</p><p><strong>“She should’ve chosen better.”</strong></p><p><strong>“She knew he wasn’t ready.”</strong></p><p><strong>“She’s just bitter.”</strong></p><p>Bitter? Sis, we’re not bitter. We’re tired.</p><p>Tired of carrying burdens that were meant to be shared. Tired of being judged for circumstances we didn’t create. Tired of being compared to every other woman like we’re in some kind of competition.</p><figure id="figure-ageu9kys8m57ot3rh"><img id="ageu9kys8m57ot3rh" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/176890195/photo/african-american-single-parent-family.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=4vOMHhfeWuwLSNrZ8lfbIAGSc5ssYNOg1uKuwGkcK-Y=" alt="African-American single-parent family" title="African-American single-parent family" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/176890195/photo/african-american-single-parent-family.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=4vOMHhfeWuwLSNrZ8lfbIAGSc5ssYNOg1uKuwGkcK-Y=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>The Double Standard Is Real</h3><p>Let’s be honest—Black women don’t get the grace or compassion we deserve. While other women are met with sympathy, we’re met with scrutiny. We’re called “angry” instead of “passionate,” “bitter” instead of “resilient,” and “too independent” like it’s a bad thing.</p><p>And don’t even get me started on the comparisons. We’re constantly being measured against others—Latina women, White women, Asian women—as if our struggles and sacrifices aren’t enough to stand on their own.</p><p>Here’s the truth: Black women have been the backbone of our communities for generations. We’ve been holding it down, raising children, building legacies, and fighting battles on every front. And yet, when we need compassion, it’s nowhere to be found.</p><h3>The Strength of a Black Woman</h3><p>Sis, let me tell you something—you’re doing an incredible job. I know it doesn’t always feel like it. I know the weight of raising a son on your own can feel like too much. But every time you show up, every time you love, teach, and guide him, you’re proving the doubters wrong.</p><p>Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it’s unfair. But you are strong enough to do this. Not because you have to be, but because you are.</p><p>It’s not about being perfect—it’s about being present. Your son doesn’t need a superwoman; he needs a mom who shows up, who listens, who loves him enough to teach him what it means to be a man.</p><h2>Writing Exercise: Letting Go of the Blame</h2><p>Sis, take some time for yourself and let’s write it out. Grab your journal and answer these prompts:</p><ol><li>What unfair expectations have been placed on you as a single mom?</li><li>What would you say to the people who judge you without knowing your story?</li><li>What would you say to yourself if you could let go of the guilt and just be proud of all you’ve done?</li></ol><h3>My Message to You</h3><p>We didn’t ask for this road, Sis. But we’re walking it anyway, with strength, grace, and love. Yes, raising sons to be men is hard, but you’re doing it. You’re showing him what resilience looks like. You’re teaching him what it means to show up for the people you love.</p><p>Don’t let the world’s judgment dim your light. You are powerful. You are capable. And you are not alone.</p><p>Let’s lift each other up. Let’s hold space for the struggles and celebrate the victories, no matter how small. Because at the end of the day, we’re not just rais<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">ing sons—we’re raising the next generation of men.</span></p><p><strong>With love and light,</strong></p><p><strong>E 💜</strong></p><figure id="figure-hvneys0908m58t7x5t"><img id="hvneys0908m58t7x5t" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/32Lczp0aiOtXcUyPL3u9k7C3rvbUEjHv0CwlF7Chrq3AydFW8z6qrfFXIcqWPrlS.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined" data-positionY="undefined" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>

Where Are All the Men? The Struggle of Single Moms Raising Sons

<p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">Let me tell you something, sis: I’ve wrestled with a lot of emotions over the years, but the one that almost broke me was forgiving myself. Not just for the things I did, but for the things I didn’t do—like leaving sooner, standing stronger, or seeing the signs before they became scars. The weight of that guilt? It’s heavy. And if you’re carrying it too, I need you to hear this: it’s time to let it go.</span></p><p>Healing isn’t just about forgiving others; it’s about forgiving ourselves. It’s about recognizing that we did the best we could with what we knew at the time. And that’s okay.</p><figure id="figure-b6tz62g1kqm51f3pun"><img id="b6tz62g1kqm51f3pun" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2159979617/photo/headache-woman-and-city-with-double-exposure-for-stress-anxiety-and-mistake-in-company-female.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=bR-71GLiL_NrDw1bmk_MkVoEpu-sgO0nbH_76b5zigM=" alt="Headache, woman and city with double exposure for stress, anxiety and mistake in company. Female person, worry and hands on face for issue, error and fault in corporate workplace with urban overlay" title="Headache, woman and city with double exposure for stress, anxiety and mistake in company. Female person, worry and hands on face for issue, error and fault in corporate workplace with urban overlay" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2159979617/photo/headache-woman-and-city-with-double-exposure-for-stress-anxiety-and-mistake-in-company-female.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=bR-71GLiL_NrDw1bmk_MkVoEpu-sgO0nbH_76b5zigM=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h2>The Blame Game: How Our Minds Work Against Us</h2><p>You know what’s wild? How our unconscious mind can turn us into our own worst enemy. Instead of pointing the finger where it belongs—at the person or situation that caused the harm—we turn it inward. “If only I had been smarter,” we tell ourselves. “If only I had left sooner. If only I had been stronger.”</p><p>Sis, that’s the trauma talking. Trauma tricks us into thinking we had control over things we didn’t. It whispers lies in our ears, making us believe we were complicit in our own pain. But let me remind you of something: you are not responsible for the things done to you. Period.</p><p>What you are responsible for is how you choose to move forward. And let me tell you, moving forward starts with being kind to yourself.</p><h3>Being Kinder to Yourself and Others</h3><p>Forgiveness—real, deep forgiveness—starts with grace. Grace for the version of you who didn’t know better. Grace for the version of you who was too scared to leave, too tired to fight, or too broken to see a way out.</p><p>Sis, you are not weak for staying. You are not foolish for loving someone who didn’t deserve you. You are human. And healing starts when we stop punishing ourselves for being human.</p><p>But here’s the thing: the grace we give ourselves? It has to extend to others too. I know that’s hard. It’s easier to stay mad, to hold on to the anger because it feels safer than vulnerability. But forgiveness isn’t about letting anyone off the hook—it’s about freeing yourself.</p><p>When you forgive, you’re not saying, “What you did was okay.” You’re saying, “I refuse to let what you did control me anymore.”</p><figure id="figure-yqsif1uwnrm51f4or0"><img id="yqsif1uwnrm51f4or0" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1356113700/photo/forget-the-past-forgive-yourself-and-begin-again-when-you-freely-let-go-of-the-past-something.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=m3KHggn71v3-HTdUpYwmWrp1iUb1UhzLsLEsZAvetSQ=" alt="Forget the past. Forgive yourself and begin again. When you freely let go of the past something better come along." title="Forget the past. Forgive yourself and begin again. When you freely let go of the past something better come along." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1356113700/photo/forget-the-past-forgive-yourself-and-begin-again-when-you-freely-let-go-of-the-past-something.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=m3KHggn71v3-HTdUpYwmWrp1iUb1UhzLsLEsZAvetSQ=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h2>Healing Is Hard, Sis, but It’s Worth It</h2><p>Let’s not sugarcoat it—healing is work. It’s crying when you don’t want to cry. It’s confronting truths you’d rather ignore. It’s choosing to get up every day and do the hard things instead of letting the pain win.</p><p>Healing is an active decision. It’s not something that just happens. It’s a choice you have to make over and over again. And some days, that choice feels impossible. But let me tell you, sis, it’s so worth it.</p><p>When you commit to healing, you’re saying to yourself, “I deserve better.” And you do. You deserve the kind of peace that lets you sleep at night. The kind of joy that makes you laugh from your soul. The kind of love that starts with you and radiates outward.</p><h3>The Journey Back to Yourself</h3><p>For a long time, I felt like I had lost myself. I was so consumed by the guilt, the pain, and the what-ifs that I couldn’t see who I was anymore. But piece by piece, I started putting myself back together.</p><p>It started with little things—journaling, meditating, and learning to sit with my feelings instead of running from them. I stopped asking, “Why did this happen to me?” and started asking, “What can I learn from this?”</p><p>And sis, that’s when everything changed. When I stopped seeing myself as a victim and started seeing myself as a survivor. A warrior. A woman who could face the hardest things life threw at her and still rise.</p><figure id="figure-gjeuhhf9v4m51f5rz7"><img id="gjeuhhf9v4m51f5rz7" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1408891346/photo/big-journeys-begin-with-small-steps.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=4OOFJ_C7tJp3cTtZwj_vc-Yzd3ePlOEq62W_HlTR2NQ=" alt="Big Journeys Begin With Small Steps" title="Big Journeys Begin With Small Steps" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1408891346/photo/big-journeys-begin-with-small-steps.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=4OOFJ_C7tJp3cTtZwj_vc-Yzd3ePlOEq62W_HlTR2NQ=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>Let’s Do This Together</h3><p>Here’s the truth: you don’t have to do this alone. Healing is hard, but it’s less lonely when you’re surrounded by people who get it. That’s why I’m building this space—a community of sisters who lift each other up, who hold each other accountable, and who remind each other that we are worthy.</p><p>So let’s make a pact, sis. Let’s stop blaming ourselves for the things we couldn’t control. Let’s choose healing, even when it’s hard. Let’s practice being kind to ourselves and each other, knowing that every step forward is a step closer to the peace we deserve.</p><p>You are not your mistakes. You are not your pain. You are the fire that comes after the ashes. Let’s walk this road together, one step, one breath, one act of grace at a time.</p><p><strong>With love and resilience,</strong><br><strong>E</strong>💜</p>

Forgiving Myself – The Hardest Lesson I’ve Ever Had to Learn

Two mother friends with two daughters crossing the road

<p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">Hey Sis, </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">Let’s talk about the weight we carry as moms—the unspoken truths, the fears we don’t voice, and the ways our pasts shape how we parent. Being a mother to boys and girls is like walking two different paths at the same time, each one filled with unique challenges, hopes, and lessons.</span></p><p>For me, raising daughters is about teaching them resilience, self-worth, and strength. Raising sons, though, comes with its own set of complexities—especially as a Black woman raising Black boys to become men. And through it all, I see how my own childhood, my relationships, and my struggles influence every choice I make as their mother.</p><figure id="figure-tkh8dsftcxm57tmbqi"><img id="tkh8dsftcxm57tmbqi" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1133893547/photo/child-friendly-apps-to-entertain-and-educate.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=wG1YKT__D4jT-1zfSehTDmFGcdB_wLmpm4YfcqEzlnM=" alt="Child-friendly apps to entertain and educate" title="Child-friendly apps to entertain and educate" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1133893547/photo/child-friendly-apps-to-entertain-and-educate.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=wG1YKT__D4jT-1zfSehTDmFGcdB_wLmpm4YfcqEzlnM=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>The Echoes of My Childhood</h3><p>Growing up, I learned what it meant to survive. My mom’s struggles with addiction and instability meant I never felt fully safe or secure. We moved constantly, never staying in one place long enough to feel like home. Nights were spent checking and rechecking locks while she disappeared to chase her next fix.</p><p>Those experiences shaped me—hardened me in ways I didn’t fully understand until I became a mom myself. I wanted something different for my children. I wanted them to feel safe, stable, and supported. But here’s the thing: when you parent from a place of fear, it’s easy to overcompensate.</p><p>With my daughters, I push them hard—sometimes too hard—because I’m terrified of them falling into the same cycles I had to fight my way out of. With my sons, I’m constantly trying to balance nurturing them with teaching them what it means to be a man in a world that often targets them just for existing.</p><h3>Raising Daughters vs. Raising Sons</h3><p>Raising daughters means teaching them to navigate a world that will try to undervalue them at every turn. I want my girls to know they are powerful, deserving, and capable of achieving anything. But sometimes, I wonder if my toughness hides the love I’m trying to show them.</p><p>Raising sons, on the other hand, feels like preparing them for battle. I want them to be gentle, kind, and compassionate, but I also know the world expects them to be tough, stoic, and unbreakable. It’s a constant struggle—wanting to raise good men while also protecting them from a society that doesn’t always see their humanity.</p><figure id="figure-9dadtb71gsm57ugobe"><img id="9dadtb71gsm57ugobe" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1291295103/photo/african-american-mother-with-two-kids-talking-on-the-phone-while-working-on-laptop-at-home.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=FEJ1SWzl1UeXY3EfAz0jc7HQRorvQrurST77KuCTfmQ=" alt="African American mother with two kids talking on the phone while working on laptop at home." title="African American mother with two kids talking on the phone while working on laptop at home." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1291295103/photo/african-american-mother-with-two-kids-talking-on-the-phone-while-working-on-laptop-at-home.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=FEJ1SWzl1UeXY3EfAz0jc7HQRorvQrurST77KuCTfmQ=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>The Truth About Relationships and Trauma</h3><p>The relationships I’ve had with their fathers haven’t just affected me—they’ve shaped how I parent. The betrayals, the heartbreaks, and the abuse left scars that sometimes bleed into how I interact with my kids.</p><p>I find myself overcompensating, trying to fill the voids their fathers left behind. But Sis, that’s a weight no woman should have to carry alone. It’s not our job to be both parents. Yet, somehow, we find ourselves doing just that—loving, disciplining, teaching, and protecting with no roadmap and no relief.</p><p>Here’s a truth I didn’t want to admit: sometimes, I parent out of guilt. Guilt for the choices I made, guilt for the things my kids have seen, guilt for not being able to shield them from every hurt. But guilt isn’t love, and it’s not the foundation I want to build my parenting on.</p><h3>Something to keep in mind</h3><p>Sis, here’s something we both need to hear: we’re doing better than we think.</p><p>Yes, our past shapes us, but it doesn’t define us. The fact that we even reflecting on how to be a better moms says everything about the kind of mothers we are. We’re present, we’re trying, and that’s what matters most.</p><p>But here’s another truth: our healing matters too. We can’t keep pouring from empty cups. Our kids need moms who’s whole, not ones holding it all together.</p><figure id="figure-xd30qv6tk2m57u30h4"><img id="xd30qv6tk2m57u30h4" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1290287566/photo/mother-daughter-and-son-preparing-spaghetti-and-vegetables-for-lunch-over-a-cutting-board.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=piXmSLwDQMOXTrDBZoxhaFojcxxZwW7dHrcdERFfZjM=" alt="Mother, Daughter and Son Preparing Spaghetti and Vegetables for Lunch over a Cutting Board" title="Mother, Daughter and Son Preparing Spaghetti and Vegetables for Lunch over a Cutting Board" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1290287566/photo/mother-daughter-and-son-preparing-spaghetti-and-vegetables-for-lunch-over-a-cutting-board.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=piXmSLwDQMOXTrDBZoxhaFojcxxZwW7dHrcdERFfZjM=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Breaking the Cycle</h3><p>One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that I can’t shield my kids from everything. I can’t fix every problem, heal every hurt, or control every outcome. What I can do is teach them resilience, model love and accountability, and show them that it’s okay to ask for help.</p><p>For my daughters, I want them to see a woman who knows her worth, who sets boundaries, and who refuses to settle for less than she deserves. For my sons, I want them to see a mother who loves deeply, who values emotional intelligence, and who teaches them that strength and vulnerability go hand in hand.</p><h3>What I’ve Learned About Myself</h3><p>Here’s the truth I didn’t want to face: sometimes, the standards I hold my kids to are really the standards I wish someone had held me to. I push them because I want them to be better, to have more, to rise above. But I’m learning that it’s okay to let them be kids—to let them make mistakes, learn, and grow at their own pace.</p><p>I’m also learning to forgive myself. For the things I didn’t know, for the ways I’ve fallen short, and for the moments I let my past dictate my present. Healing is a journey, Sis, and I’m still on it.</p><h2>Writing Exercise: Reflecting on Your Parenting</h2><p>Take some time to journal about your parenting journey. Answer these prompts:</p><ol><li>What lessons from your past have shaped how you parent today?</li><li>How do you balance raising daughters and sons with their unique needs?</li><li>What is one thing you can do to show yourself grace as a parent?</li></ol><figure id="figure-2uwc5s54dpm57u86eb" class=""><img id="2uwc5s54dpm57u86eb" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1189088293/photo/happy-mother-and-children-in-the-kitchen-healthy-food-family-cooking-concept.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=zrnxGr7mQMVtijvKjAbf-vQow9j-mH-FWRQ2UFND58k=" alt="Happy mother and children in the kitchen. Healthy food, family, cooking concept" title="Happy mother and children in the kitchen. Healthy food, family, cooking concept" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1189088293/photo/happy-mother-and-children-in-the-kitchen-healthy-food-family-cooking-concept.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=zrnxGr7mQMVtijvKjAbf-vQow9j-mH-FWRQ2UFND58k=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><p>Sis, parenting isn’t about perfection; it’s about presence. It’s about showing up, even when you’re tired, even when you’re unsure, even when the weight of the world feels too heavy.</p><p>Your past doesn’t define you, and it doesn’t define your kids. You’re breaking cycles, creating legacies, and teaching your children the most important lesson of all: that love, accountability, and resilience can overcome anything.</p><p>You’re not just raising children—you’re rai<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">sing the next generation. And you’re doing an amazing job.</span></p><p><strong>With love and light,</strong></p><p><strong>E 💜</strong></p><figure id="figure-8o6xt1mfwm58t2v94"><img id="8o6xt1mfwm58t2v94" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/32Lczp0aiOtXcUyPL3u9k7C3rvbUEjHv0CwlF7Chrq3AydFW8z6qrfFXIcqWPrlS.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined" data-positionY="undefined" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>

Parenting Through the Pain: How My Past Shapes the Mother I Am Today

<p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">Hey Sis, </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">Let’s talk about something that’s hard to admit but even harder to live through—choosing to distance yourself from someone you love, someone who’s supposed to love you back, because their denial and lack of accountability are too much to bear. For me, that someone is my mom.</span></p><p>It’s not that I don’t love her. I do. But I had to choose me. I had to choose my peace, my sanity, and my healing over the constant gaslighting, denial, and trauma.</p><figure id="figure-qviyu059bm57qx44n"><img id="qviyu059bm57qx44n" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1766803075/photo/feeling-safe-in-friends-hug.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=xb0N0UuozJ3m8o8qr461LdCoXfnNk7LhYRDP6IVmrEI=" alt="Feeling safe in friend's hug!" title="Feeling safe in friend's hug!" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1766803075/photo/feeling-safe-in-friends-hug.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=xb0N0UuozJ3m8o8qr461LdCoXfnNk7LhYRDP6IVmrEI=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>Denial: The Silent Destroyer</h3><p>What I’ve realized is that her refusal to acknowledge her wrongs is just as harmful as the actions themselves. It’s like trying to heal a wound while someone keeps reopening it, over and over again.</p><p>Each time she denies what she’s done, it feels like she’s telling me my pain doesn’t matter, like my experiences weren’t real. It makes me second-guess myself, questioning if I’m overreacting, if I’m being too sensitive, if I’m imagining things. And that, Sis, is the most dangerous part.</p><p>Gaslighting is insidious. It creeps into your mind and makes you question your own reality. And when it’s coming from someone who’s supposed to love and protect you, it hits even harder.</p><h3>The Weight of Second-Guessing</h3><p>There were moments when I found myself wondering, “Am I crazy? Did it really happen that way?” And that kind of doubt is exhausting. It’s mentally and emotionally draining to constantly replay events in your head, trying to convince yourself that what you lived through was real.</p><p>I couldn’t keep doing that to myself. I couldn’t keep sacrificing my peace for someone who refuses to take accountability. Her denial hinders my healing, and without healing, I can’t move forward.</p><figure id="figure-bmhwwcqikem57r003s"><img id="bmhwwcqikem57r003s" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1766798611/photo/everything-will-be-ok.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=9_TSlP-oobyHL5t7RrT_Rkc0DWng5_8QxO0gQ_TT3Vs=" alt="Everything will be ok!" title="Everything will be ok!" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1766798611/photo/everything-will-be-ok.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=9_TSlP-oobyHL5t7RrT_Rkc0DWng5_8QxO0gQ_TT3Vs=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>Why Accountability Matters</h3><p>Accountability is powerful. It’s not just about saying, “I’m sorry.” It’s about acknowledging the pain you’ve caused and committing to do better. It’s about giving the other person the space to heal by validating their experiences.</p><p>But when someone refuses to take accountability, they rob you of that opportunity. They keep you trapped in a cycle of pain and confusion, unable to close the chapter and move on.</p><p>I had to break that cycle. I had to stop waiting for the apology that may never come.</p><h3>The Cost of Denial</h3><p>What hurts the most is that her denial isn’t just about avoiding blame—it’s about protecting herself at my expense. She would rather continue the lie than face the truth. She would rather gaslight me than acknowledge her role in my pain.</p><p>That’s not love. Love is accountability. Love is honesty. Love is showing up, even when it’s uncomfortable.</p><h3>Choosing to Walk Away</h3><p>Distancing myself from my mom wasn’t an easy choice, but it was a necessary one. I couldn’t keep sacrificing my mental health for the sake of a relationship that wasn’t built on mutual respect or understanding.</p><p>I had to protect my peace. I had to choose healing. And sometimes, healing means letting go.</p><p>It doesn’t mean I don’t love her. It doesn’t mean I don’t wish things were different. But it does mean I’m no longer willing to put myself in a position where my sanity and self-worth are constantly under attack.</p><h3>Breaking the Cycle</h3><p>What keeps me going is knowing that I’m breaking the cycle. I’m raising my daughters to know their worth, to understand the power of accountability, and to never second-guess their experiences or their feelings.</p><p>I want them to love and respect me, but I also want them to feel safe enough to call me out when I’m wrong. Because love isn’t about always being right—it’s about showing up, being honest, and doing the work to heal together.</p><figure id="figure-1vrnm5av3bm57slfz8"><img id="1vrnm5av3bm57slfz8" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1581047215/photo/child-mother-family-parent-home-woman-happy-daughter-kid-hug-portrait-together-childhood-girl.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=D2abINAPfdV9aQyRBhvECoOULojgZ_pNXQXDJ5wGaXw=" alt="child mother family parent home woman happy daughter kid hug portrait together childhood girl mom female little young love fun beautiful black african american" title="child mother family parent home woman happy daughter kid hug portrait together childhood girl mom female little young love fun beautiful black african american" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1581047215/photo/child-mother-family-parent-home-woman-happy-daughter-kid-hug-portrait-together-childhood-girl.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=D2abINAPfdV9aQyRBhvECoOULojgZ_pNXQXDJ5wGaXw=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>Writing Exercise: Releasing the Doubt</h2><p>Sis, take a moment to write out all the times you’ve second-guessed yourself because of someone else’s denial or gaslighting. Then write down affirmations to remind yourself that your experiences are valid and your feelings matter. End with a commitment to protect your peace, no matter what.</p><h3>My Message to You</h3><p>If you’re in a similar situation, know this: It’s okay to walk away. It’s okay to choose peace over pain. It’s okay to love someone from a distance if being close to them hurts more than it heals.</p><p>You are not crazy. You are not overreacting. Your pain is valid, and your healing is worth fighting for.</p><p>Choosing yourself isn’t selfish—it’s necessary. And Sis, you deserve to heal. You deserve peace. You deserve joy.</p><p><strong>With love and light,</strong><br><strong>E 💜</strong></p><figure id="figure-np742jkpvm58t4pn7" class="selected"><img id="np742jkpvm58t4pn7" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/32Lczp0aiOtXcUyPL3u9k7C3rvbUEjHv0CwlF7Chrq3AydFW8z6qrfFXIcqWPrlS.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/32Lczp0aiOtXcUyPL3u9k7C3rvbUEjHv0CwlF7Chrq3AydFW8z6qrfFXIcqWPrlS.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: center center;"></figure>

Choosing Peace Over Pain: Why I Had to Distance Myself

surrealistic portrait front with cut out profile of man

<p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">Let’s talk about a dynamic that’s as toxic as it is common: the empath and the narcissist. It’s the classic story of one person who feels everything too deeply and another who thrives on control and manipulation.</span></p><p>If you’re an empath, like me, you know how easy it is to get caught in the web. Your heart is big, your intentions are pure, and you genuinely want to help people heal. But when a narcissist walks into your life, they’ll take that kindness and turn it into a weapon—against you.</p><figure id="figure-zs9bpm81rrm58s81rt"><img id="zs9bpm81rrm58s81rt" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1325328493/photo/multiple-exposure-image-with-sunrise-and-sea-inside-woman-silhouette-psychology-concept.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=RNfcliZLvG_kq2RP_iNZE6eghF1ezHpm5PBMxysn3l8=" alt="Multiple exposure image with sunrise and sea inside woman silhouette. Psychology concept" title="Multiple exposure image with sunrise and sea inside woman silhouette. Psychology concept" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined" data-positionY="undefined" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure><h3>The Magnetism of Opposites</h3><p>Here’s the thing about empaths and narcissists: <strong>they’re drawn to each other like moths to a flame. </strong>The empath sees the pain behind the narcissist’s façade and wants to fix it. The narcissist sees the empath’s compassion and wants to exploit it.</p><p>It’s a dangerous dance, Sis. One where the empath gives and gives, hoping to fill the void they see in the narcissist, while the narcissist takes and takes, never intending to give anything in return.</p><h3>How It Starts</h3><p>At first, the narcissist is charming, attentive, and everything you think you’ve been looking for. They know exactly how to mirror your emotions, validate your feelings, and make you believe they’re the one.</p><p>But then the mask slips.</p><p>Slowly, they start to gaslight you, dismiss your feelings, and make you question your reality. They’ll take your empathy and twist it, using your love and understanding as tools to control you. And because you’re an empath, you’ll stick around, thinking you can help them change.</p><figure id="figure-030fy2malm58sa1u7"><img id="030fy2malm58sa1u7" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1284548174/photo/african-american-couple-in-fashionable-clothes.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=7iwlt629jC87zheUXECg24C9kBAPFYup3uW3qZvP2Zs=" alt="African american couple in fashionable clothes" title="African american couple in fashionable clothes" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1284548174/photo/african-american-couple-in-fashionable-clothes.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=7iwlt629jC87zheUXECg24C9kBAPFYup3uW3qZvP2Zs=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>The Cost of Compassion</h3><p>Sis, let me tell you something—your compassion is a gift, but not everyone deserves it. Narcissists thrive on empaths because we see the good in people, even when they’ve shown us their bad.</p><p>But here’s what you need to know: <strong>it’s not your job to fix anyone.</strong> Especially not someone who doesn’t want to be fixed.</p><p>Staying in a toxic dynamic with a narcissist doesn’t just drain your energy—it steals your peace, your self-worth, and your joy. And Sis, those are things you can’t afford to lose.</p><h3>Breaking the Cycle</h3><p>So, how do you break free from the empath-narcissist dynamic? It starts with recognizing the signs and setting boundaries.</p><ol><li><strong>Trust What You See:</strong> Narcissists are masters of manipulation, but their actions will always reveal the truth. Don’t ignore the red flags.</li><li><strong>Set Boundaries:</strong> Empaths struggle with boundaries, but they’re essential. Learn to say no, walk away, and protect your energy.</li><li><strong>Stop Trying to Fix Them:</strong> It’s not your job to heal their wounds, especially when they’re unwilling to acknowledge them.</li><li><strong>Focus on Your Healing: </strong>Spend time reconnecting with yourself, nurturing your energy, and remembering who you are outside of the relationship.</li></ol><figure id="figure-e1sh21fgmm58sb984"><img id="e1sh21fgmm58sb984" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1317774409/photo/shot-of-a-young-woman-wearing-her-hair-in-a-bun-against-an-orange-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=YK5LxKPbJ6_2_2z8cgSWjp_dOuHa4gQoXTmm34pwaCM=" alt="Shot of a young woman wearing her hair in a bun against an orange background" title="Shot of a young woman wearing her hair in a bun against an orange background" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1317774409/photo/shot-of-a-young-woman-wearing-her-hair-in-a-bun-against-an-orange-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=YK5LxKPbJ6_2_2z8cgSWjp_dOuHa4gQoXTmm34pwaCM=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>The Empowered Empath</h3><p>Here’s the thing, Sis: <strong>being an empath isn’t a weakness—it’s a superpower. </strong>But like any power, it has to be used wisely.</p><p>When you learn to set boundaries, trust your intuition, and walk away from what no longer serves you, you reclaim your strength. You stop giving your energy to people who don’t deserve it and start pouring it into yourself and the relationships that truly matter.</p><h3>Writing Exercise: Reclaiming Your Power</h3><p>If you’ve ever found yourself in the empath-narcissist dynamic, take a moment to reflect. Write a letter to yourself, acknowledging the ways you’ve been taken advantage of and celebrating the strength it took to break free. Then list three ways you can protect your energy moving forward.</p><figure id="figure-2u1aecao9m58seewh"><img id="2u1aecao9m58seewh" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2183585629/photo/smudge-sticks-and-rose-quart.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=wyq3j5uXRfNJ-UHP-4b8LGBT2L4O8PQMKP1zqC70e0g=" alt="Smudge Sticks and Rose Quart" title="Smudge Sticks and Rose Quart" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="null" data-positiony="null" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2183585629/photo/smudge-sticks-and-rose-quart.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=wyq3j5uXRfNJ-UHP-4b8LGBT2L4O8PQMKP1zqC70e0g=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>My Message to You</h3><p>Sis, the empath and the narcissist might seem like opposites, but they’re drawn to each other for a reason. And while the dynamic can be toxic, it doesn’t define you.</p><p>You are not weak for caring. You are not foolish for wanting to help. But you are powerful when you decide to prioritize your peace and walk away from anything that threatens it.</p><p>So the next time someone tries to exploit your empathy, remember this: <strong>you are not t</strong><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));"><strong>heir savior. </strong>You are your own.</span></p><p><strong>With love, light, and firm boundaries,</strong></p><p><strong>E 💜</strong></p><figure id="figure-lczsi20stmm58s6hph"><img id="lczsi20stmm58s6hph" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/32Lczp0aiOtXcUyPL3u9k7C3rvbUEjHv0CwlF7Chrq3AydFW8z6qrfFXIcqWPrlS.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/32Lczp0aiOtXcUyPL3u9k7C3rvbUEjHv0CwlF7Chrq3AydFW8z6qrfFXIcqWPrlS.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: center center;"></figure>

The Empath and the Narcissist: A Dangerous Dance

Portrait of a young man on a pink background

<p><span style="background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity)); font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); font-weight: inherit;" data-mce-style="background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity)); font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); font-weight: inherit;">Hey Sis, </span><span style="background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity)); font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); font-weight: inherit;" data-mce-style="background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity)); font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); font-weight: inherit;">Let’s get one thing straight—I am not the one. Not today, not yesterday, and definitely not tomorrow. So when these men (or people in general) think they can spin the block and try me again after showing me who they really are, I’m left wondering: What exactly do I look like to you?</span></p><p><strong>Because it’s giving delusional</strong>.</p><figure id="figure-bxdwamt0qkm58p7lmm"><img id="bxdwamt0qkm58p7lmm" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1424925138/photo/portrait-of-a-young-man-on-a-pink-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=ncwG38a0dWsCojgEUxjC2bnzcllUdicaab7lXIz6Mi0=" alt="Portrait of a young man on a pink background" title="Portrait of a young man on a pink background" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1424925138/photo/portrait-of-a-young-man-on-a-pink-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=ncwG38a0dWsCojgEUxjC2bnzcllUdicaab7lXIz6Mi0=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>We’ve Been Here Before</h3><p>Let me paint the picture for you. He messed up—bad. We’re talking about crossing lines, testing my patience, and absolutely failing to show up when I needed him most.</p><p>And yet, here he comes, months later, acting like we didn’t already have that conversation. You know, the one where I made it clear I’m done? It’s the audacity for me.</p><p>The last time we spoke, he didn’t just show his true colors—he painted the whole damn mural. The dismissiveness, the gaslighting, the "Maybe you’re just overreacting" energy? Yeah, that’s a no from me.</p><h3>Why Do They Always Come Back?</h3><p>Sis, I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s because they think we’re the safe space they can always return to. Or maybe it’s their ego, thinking we’re still sitting around waiting. </p><p><strong>Spoiler alert: we’re not.</strong></p><p>What they don’t realize is that the version of us they think they’re coming back to? She doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve grown. I’ve healed. I’ve leveled up. And honestly, I’m not interested in entertaining people who had their chance and blew it.</p><figure id="figure-ec2ymto47jm58pk0pt"><img id="ec2ymto47jm58pk0pt" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1424925121/photo/portrait-of-a-young-man-on-a-pink-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=o4lhTk6igST21UGspTe5HkWaQbuk1uiYB49VemDkTVI=" alt="Portrait of a young man on a pink background" title="Portrait of a young man on a pink background" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1424925121/photo/portrait-of-a-young-man-on-a-pink-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=o4lhTk6igST21UGspTe5HkWaQbuk1uiYB49VemDkTVI=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Protecting My Peace</h3><p>Here’s the thing—I’ve worked too hard to find my peace. The kind of peace that comes from learning to love myself, setting boundaries, and refusing to settle for anything less than respect and accountability.</p><p>So when he (or anyone) comes back, thinking I’m going to entertain the same nonsense I walked away from, my response is simple: No, thank you.</p><p>I’m not angry. I’m not bitter. I’m just... good. I don’t need closure, explanations, or apologies. I’ve already made peace with the situation—and with myself.</p><h3>The Glow-Up Is Real</h3><p>You know what’s funny? They always seem to come back when you’re glowing. When you’ve found your stride, your purpose, your joy. It’s almost like they can sense the happiness they once dimmed shining bright again.</p><p>But Sis, let me tell you something: don’t let them disrupt your glow. You’ve worked too hard to get here. Don’t let their return trip shake what you’ve built.</p><figure id="figure-7qvqjnhuxm58pkkr7"><img id="7qvqjnhuxm58pkkr7" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1424925125/photo/portrait-of-a-young-man-dancing-on-a-pink-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=I9iOc22o1tIR9a-3oxCgmJjjnNBCJQ15a-4PBHtfn4A=" alt="Portrait of a young man dancing on a pink background" title="Portrait of a young man dancing on a pink background" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1424925125/photo/portrait-of-a-young-man-dancing-on-a-pink-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=I9iOc22o1tIR9a-3oxCgmJjjnNBCJQ15a-4PBHtfn4A=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>Writing Exercise: Declaring Your Worth</h2><p>Grab your journal and write this out:</p><ol><li>What have you learned about yourself since walking away from someone who hurt you?</li><li>What are three things you will no longer tolerate in relationships, friendships, or life in general?</li><li>Write a letter to your future self, reminding her of the strength it took to let go and the joy she’s found since.</li></ol><h3>My Message To You</h3><p><strong>Sis</strong>, we don’t spin the block over here. We don’t entertain what no longer serves us. We don’t dim our light to make others comfortable.</p><p>Let him wonder why you’re not answering. Let him replay that last conversation in his head. Let him see you thriving and know he fumbled.</p><p>Because here’s the truth: when you choose yourself, you win. When you protect your peace, you glow. And when you refuse to go backward, you open yourself up to everything forward has to offer.</p><p>So the next time someone tries to spin the block, just smile and keep moving. You’ve already passed that test, Sis. No need to <span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">take it again.</span></p><p><strong>With love, light, and a whole lot of boundaries,</strong></p><p><strong>E 💜</strong></p><figure id="figure-zilyuc9x9dm58t0gn4"><img id="zilyuc9x9dm58t0gn4" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/32Lczp0aiOtXcUyPL3u9k7C3rvbUEjHv0CwlF7Chrq3AydFW8z6qrfFXIcqWPrlS.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined" data-positionY="undefined" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>

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The Empath and the Narcissist: A Dangerous Dance

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