“I would rather adjust my life to your absence, than adjust my boundaries to accommodate your disrespect”
We’ve all heard the phrase, “We accept the love we think we deserve.” But there comes a time when you truly realise your worth, when you understand that the love you accept should never come at the cost of your self-respect. Boundaries are not meant to be negotiated for the comfort of others — they are a reflection of the love you hold for yourself.
At nineteen, I learned that people who don’t respect your boundaries don’t deserve your presence. Adjusting to their absence may hurt, but it’s a pain that brings growth. It’s far better than shrinking who you are to fit inside someone else’s disrespectful narrative.
“If you’re important to them, they will make time for you”
Do you ever wonder why it feels like you care more than they do? Why you’re always the one initiating the hangouts, the conversations, the plans? I remember calling my mom once, tears streaming down my face, telling her how exhausted I was from putting in so much effort only to get little or nothing in return. She didn’t sugarcoat it, didn’t console me the way I expected. Instead, she said, “No matter how busy someone is, if they care about you — if you’re a priority — they will make time for you.”
And she was right. In every friendship, in every relationship, this simple truth rings clear: people will make time for those they genuinely care about. No one is too busy for what matters to them. If they can’t, or won’t, carve out that time for you, maybe the harsh reality is that you’re just not that important to them. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but understanding this is key to valuing your own worth and knowing when to stop pouring your energy into people who don’t deserve it.
“Just because flowers are not the standard”
For so many years, I believed men should instinctively know how to treat women, as if understanding how to love someone was innate and required no effort or communication. I’ve never been more wrong. As a society, we’re rarely taught how to love or how to navigate the complexities of romantic relationships. We enter them with assumptions and expectations, often shaped by movies, songs, or vague societal ideals, but never explicitly discussed.
There are 8.1 billion people in the world, and each one of us desires to be loved in our own unique way. When you expect someone to love you exactly as you want, without ever clearly communicating what that looks like, you create an unbalanced dynamic — a playing field that was never level to begin with. It’s unfair to both parties, leaving one side frustrated and the other in the dark.
There’s something far more beautiful than receiving “just because” flowers, and that is being open about how you wish to be loved and having your partner listen, understand, and act on it. It’s not about grand gestures; it’s about mutual respect and effort. True intimacy isn’t expecting someone to read your mind — it’s knowing they care enough to listen to your heart.
“Be a good person, but don’t waste your time proving it”
We all suffer from a certain need for validation, a quiet desperation to be seen as good in the eyes of others. For years, I broke off pieces of myself, bending and contorting, just to prove to anyone willing to listen that I wasn’t the villain they might think I was. I wanted so badly for people to understand that beneath it all, I was kind, I was good. I cried, I pleaded, with tears streaming down my face, explaining my actions over and over, apologizing for taking up space, for merely breathing the same air.
But here’s the truth: you can’t spend your life trying to prove your worth to people who aren’t willing to see it. You’ll exhaust yourself explaining, apologizing for things that don’t even need apologies, seeking approval that may never come. Being a good person doesn’t require constant validation. You are enough as you are, even without the approval of others. Your actions, your intentions, speak for themselves, and that’s all that matters.
“If a person wants to cut you out of their life, let them”
For the longest time, I believed that getting cut off meant I had done something wrong — that somehow, I was the problem. I would agonize over what I could’ve said or done to make them leave, convinced that if I just figured it out, I could fix it. I would beg for answers, pleading for second chances, desperate to prove I could change or be “good enough” to stay in their life. It felt like I was constantly on trial, holding on until there was nothing left of my pride or self-worth.
It wasn’t until I was the one doing the cutting-off that I finally understood: that letting someone go doesn’t always mean something bad happened. Sometimes, people grow apart. Sometimes, staying connected becomes more painful than walking away. And it’s not always about fault or blame — it’s about the simple, inevitable truth that not everyone is meant to stay in your life forever.
In those moments, it’s not about right or wrong. It’s about preserving your own peace, realizing that holding on out of fear or guilt benefits no one. Sometimes, letting go is the kindest thing you can do for both of you.