The Circle Gets Smaller and That's Not a Loss

As I get older, I’m learning who my core relationships truly are. The circle gets smaller not because of bitterness, not because of walls, but because judgment finally arrives. And I’ve made peace with that.

I no longer reach for outside noise when I’m at my most vulnerable. I used to. I needed it once. But now, I understand that not everyone deserves access to my softest moments. Selectivity isn’t isolation, it’s self-respect.

When I was married, communication was one of our greatest struggles. I was the alpha in that relationship, and that role didn’t come from ego it came from survival. From my upbringing. From learning early that safety meant being in control. If I handled everything, nothing could fall apart. Or so I thought.

Over time, that dynamic shifted into something heavier. I began to see him as the weak link, one I both enabled and resented. He allowed it, and I reinforced it. The truth is, I didn’t want that kind of partnership anymore, and no amount of conversations was going to change who he was willing to become. I leaned on outside friendships to fill the void of not feeling heard, not feeling met. And the longer we avoided our real issues, the more I resented the version of myself that showed up in that marriage. I didn’t like how I treated him.

He was a good man. He just had his own work to do, and he wasn’t doing it. Because of that, he couldn’t be the man I needed at that time.

The divorce came easily. There was no war, no fight. Just a quiet understanding that this was the better option for both of us, even after twenty years together. It was painful, yes but clear.

What I didn’t do was sit with myself afterward. I stayed in my familiar pattern and jumped into someone else’s arms without healing. I told myself this was my chance to have the love of my life. And in many ways, it was beautiful. The communication was strong. We talked about everything under the sun. He loved me with intention, and his actions showed it.

But there was a block I couldn’t get past.

A sense of privacy. A quiet withholding. A feeling I tried desperately to understand, rationalize, soften. And no matter how much love was present, it kept circling back to a familiar wound the same feeling I had in my marriage: this time not being chosen out loud. Not being worthy enough to be claimed fully.

I started a tug of war with the relationship. In and out. Back and forth. I even convinced myself that maybe the answer was distraction finding a new core group of friends, joining leadership spaces, staying busy so I wouldn’t dwell so much on the issue. But that didn’t work.

He showed up more and more in my space, and I tried to be good with it, but the unworthy feeling ate at my soul and became unhealthy. Loving someone quietly when your soul needs resonance is exhausting. It hurt to keep pouring into something that couldn’t meet me in the way I needed.

So I let the rope go.

Not in anger. Not in punishment. But in truth. I felt a love so intentional, and I know I will have it again.

I’m sitting with my feelings now. Listening instead of rushing. Leaning into what I truly want because life is too short to negotiate your needs into silence. I’m taking everything I’ve learned: the love, the loss, the self-awareness, the accountability, and I’m walking into this next chapter with confidence.

I know who my people are. I know what kind of love I require, and I know deeply that I am worthy of the good that is still coming my way.

And this time, I won’t abandon myself while I wait for it.

#myjournal #iamworthy