Becoming Whole: When Trust Leaves the room

I sit in my favorite chair.

I sip my tea.

I take a breath… and I arrive.

And again, my sisters, I have a word for you.

I say this out of love.

I say this out of care.

Because I have been there.

What I am speaking to you about… I just left that.

I just left that.

And it is simply this:

Some people do not have the capacity to care deeply.

They just never had it.

And you—being the wonderful, loving, open soul that you are—

you would not expect that.

You would not recognize that at first.

Because you love deeply.

Because you show up.

Because when you care, you care all the way.

But hear me—

When someone pulls you in,

when they accept your love, your attention, your presence…

and then they are reckless with your heart,

it is not confusion.

It is capacity.

They know themselves.

They know how far they can go.

They know what they are able—and unwilling—to give.

And yet… they take from you anyway.

They allow you to pour into them.

They receive your softness.

They stand in the warmth of your care.

And still… they do not rise to meet you.

That is where the truth lives.

And that is where trust leaves the room.

Not always loudly.

Not always in an argument.

Not always in some dramatic ending.

Sometimes… it leaves quietly.

Because when someone is careless with your heart—

when they do not call, not because they are busy, but because they do not want to…

when they do not check on you when you are unwell, not because they forgot, but because it does not move them…

when they give you just enough to keep you there, but never enough to truly hold you—

you must see it for what it is.

Do not overthink it.

Do not blame yourself.

Do not shame yourself.

Do not question your worth.

Do not pity yourself.

See clearly.

Some people do not lose access to you because you are difficult.

They lose access because they were careless.

Because they mishandled something sacred.

Because they treated your tenderness like it was common.

And beloved—

You do not have to make a scene.

You do not have to argue your value.

You do not have to convince anyone to care.

You simply deny them access.

And if trust has already left the room…

then you, my sister,

must have the courage to leave too.

Not in anger.

Not in chaos.

Not in bitterness.

But in truth.

In dignity.

In self-respect.

Leave the room.

Choose your peace.

Choose the kind of love that is kind… considerate… and careful with your heart.

That, too, is Becoming Whole.

Good morning, world.

Good morning, my sisters.

This morning, as I sit in my chair and sip my beautiful oolong from Kenya, there is an urgency in my spirit.

Let me say this clearly—

Do not settle.

There is greatness in you. Not a small, quiet kind of greatness—but a bold, expansive, undeniable greatness that was placed inside of you on purpose.

And when you settle—

you betray that truth.

Settling is not just a decision.

It is an experience that lives in the body.

It shows up as fatigue you cannot explain.

A heaviness in your spirit.

A quiet disinterest in your own life.

Your nervous system feels it.

Your mind wrestles with it.

Your spirit grieves it.

Because deep down—

you know.

You know when you are accepting less than what honors you.

You know when you are shrinking to fit spaces you’ve outgrown.

You know when your joy has gone silent.

And my sisters, hear me—

that silence is not peace. That is your spirit asking you to rise.

You were not created to live a life that drains you.

You were not called to be tolerated when you are meant to be celebrated.

You were not designed to abandon your dreams to make others comfortable.

Your body knows.

Your spirit knows.

And today, I am asking you to listen.

Return to yourself.

Return to your standards.

Return to your joy.

Because becoming whole requires courage—

the courage to walk away,

the courage to choose differently,

the courage to believe that more is not only possible…

it is already yours.

So today, I remind you:

Do not settle for half love.

Do not settle for half dreams.

Do not settle for a life that does not feel like your own.

Stand up in your fullness.

Choose yourself without apology.

And trust—deeply—that what is aligned with you will meet you there.

With love,

from my chair, with tea in hand.