Not Everyone Is Meant to Stay

It’s a hard truth to swallow—but one that’s freed me time and time again:
Not everyone is meant to stay in your life.

Some people are only ever meant to be temporary.

They arrive with a purpose. Maybe they hold space during a hard time. Maybe they teach you something you didn’t even know you needed to learn. Maybe they make you feel alive—for a moment. But once their role is complete, once the chapter changes, you’re allowed to let them go.

And honestly? Letting go isn’t always sad.
Sometimes, it’s liberating.

It’s a powerful thing to recognize the toxicity in even the best relationships—the ones you thought were different—and to walk away anyway.
Not because you’re bitter. But because you’ve finally realized:
This person’s best is not good enough for me.
And that doesn’t make me cruel. That makes me clear.

I, for one, am tired of being mind-boggled by people’s behavior and still sticking around, trying to justify it—just because somewhere along the way, I was taught to “see the best in people.”
But the truth is:
Some people’s “best” only shows up every now and then.
And the rest of the time? It’s damage control.
It’s dismissiveness. It’s disrespect.

And I’ve decided that’s no longer enough.

Maybe that sounds shallow. Maybe even a little judgmental.
That’s okay.

We all get to choose our boundaries.
And I’ve chosen to put up an electric fence.

If you can’t show up with kindness, consistency, and respect—then I’m perfectly content letting that fence do its job.
And if nothing else?
Maybe the shock will serve as a wake-up call.

Because the reality is, everyone in your life should add to it.
Not drain it. Not confuse you. Not make you feel small.
They should support your becoming—not pull you backward into pieces you’ve already outgrown.

Sometimes, especially when we’re struggling, we don’t see it clearly.
We hold on. We hope. We squint at red flags and call them personality quirks.
But eventually, the truth gets too loud to ignore.

You outgrow the chaos.
You detach from the drama.
You stop begging for crumbs from people who barely know how to feed themselves emotionally.

And you start choosing peace.

Because healing isn’t just about what you say yes to.
It’s about what you finally say no to.
And when you get to that point?
You don’t need a scene. You don’t need closure.
You just need to walk away—head high, soul intact.

Some people were only meant to walk with you for a moment.
Carrying them beyond that only weighs you down.

And me? I want lightness. I want truth.
I want relationships that feel good to my nervous system.
Anything else?
That fence is humming—and I’m not sorry about it.

If you’re reading this and there’s a chirpy little bird flying around in your head and butterflies in your belly trying to tell you to cut the shit—maybe it’s time you listen.

Maybe it’s time you stop romanticizing the red flags.
Maybe it’s time you stop explaining away the things that hurt.
Maybe it’s time you stop clinging to what once was and start paying attention to what is.

You already know what you need to do. Your body knows. Your heart knows.
That buzzing in your gut? That’s not anxiety. That’s your truth trying to scream through the noise.

You can’t heal in the same space that keeps wounding you.
You can’t grow in soil that’s been poisoned with excuses.
And you can’t keep dragging people into your future who were only meant for your past.

So let this be the permission you’ve been waiting for—
To draw the line.
To build the fence.
To stop letting people drain you just because you “see the good in them.”

See the good. Bless the lesson.
But don’t forget to walk away.

You don’t owe anyone access to you just because you used to love them.
You owe yourself peace.
You owe yourself softness, safety, and space to breathe.

And if someone in your life can’t meet you with love, respect, and consistency—
then maybe it’s time to let the fence hum.

And maybe this time, you be the one who leaves without looking back.

-AG-